Rules to Live By
by GirlScoutSniper
Summary: A soldier's story set in the future war.  You never know what Skynet will throw at you, but you don't expect complications from your highest commander.  Mostly OC, cameos will appear in later chapters. This story is still in progress.
1. Chapter 1

I. Warm Body

A heavy body plopped down on the foam mattress beside him. Sergeant Collin Wall knew just by the size who it was. Symms topped Collin's six foot frame by almost 3 inches, and his broad shoulders seemed puny compared to Symms' proportions. How a man got that big eating as little as they got he had no clue, especially with chow being so bad here at Liberty Base.

"I hear we're getting a new warm body", Symms huffed.

"Better than a cold one," Collin replied, not looking up, as he rubbed cleaning oil on his M16 with an M203 grenade launcher attachment. "Have any better info than that?" As much as he'd enjoyed the solitude, he wanted information.

"Sniper", replied Crow who'd followed Symms in. He handed Collin a plate of beans and rice. Collin nodded thanks at the food, but grimaced at the gray contents on the dented aluminum plate.

"Never had one of those under me before," Collin grunted between bites of the bland food.

Snipers were an uncommon specialty in The Resistance. In the thirteen years since Judgment Day the war had essentially been entrenched tank and guerilla warfare. Snipers had evolved from one shot, one kill people killers to Scout-Sniper teams that did more long range missions and they killed the machines.

"Keep talking. You're normally a group of magpies. You've obviously been doing some chattering in the chow line," he ordered.

Crow and Symms exchanged a grim look, Crow answered "Scout-sniper squad from Omaha Base was wiped out near here... except for one. We're getting 'em. Name's Porter, a girl... err, woman."

"Never had one of them under me before either," Collin said, "Know her? Know if she's any good?" He flicked a stone out of the beans.

The magpies snickered, "Oh, I'm sure you have before, boss! I don't know if she's good, though!"

"I meant as a team member, dammit!" Collin scowled at them. A serious boy by nature, that Judgment Day had made an even quieter man, and he'd been saddled with two of the biggest jokers for underlings.

The two looked properly chastised, and Crow gave him the answer he wanted, "Don't know anyone from Omaha. She's still at Med now, got banged up, but will be over shortly I heard."

Collin had never commanded a woman, but he'd fought beside many. He never took into account whether there was a man behind the rifle or throwing the grenade, just that they had a good aim or throw. Many still saw women as the ones that made the ammo, not the ones that shot it. They were also often discounted, because it was easy for them to retire; they just got knocked up and they were out. But, that attitude only appeared underground; once you got out in the junkyard no one cared. The junkyard was the great equalizer and Collin had walked beside women who busted metal more efficiently than many of the men he knew. He knew that Crow and Symms had also, and were just being silly. However, you just don't joke about someone who lost everyone in their squad, probably her best buddies. They could commiserate with recent loss, also. Corporal Porter was filling the slot that just eight days ago was held by Ted Brandt who'd taken a plasma bolt in a fight that had also claimed one of their privates and a trainee.

He looked up when he heard Ford announce down the tunnel, "Hey, Wall! Here's your package! You'll be moving to Omaha Base in 2 days to fill in the TOE for Porter's squad". He stood to examine his new team member. He hadn't even been told more than her last name yet, and it's not like they got files on anyone. He wasn't used to much more official information unless they were briefing him on a mission. He watched her watching him; they both were playing the same game of figuring out quickly if this were a square peg trying to fit in a round hole.

All he could think at first was how clean she was compared to the dirty children that played tag around her. He knew it was because she'd just got out of Medical, but her brown hair wasn't stuck to her head like everyone's normally was and hung freely to her shoulders. Her face was pale like everyone's from lack of sunshine, but hers was painted blue and red with bruises up her right jaw, cheek and temple. He knew it would be covered in dust in a matter of a day or two. He could tell that she'd been at least 10 or 11 before Judgment Day, because, even though not tall, she was almost 5'7". She'd had enough food growing up and had built strong bones those crucial years. Lots of kids younger than that didn't get much taller now because of malnutrition.

He looked down to her jacket sleeves and checked for kill patches; you just couldn't not check for those. Sometimes he felt angry and that the patches were just a game, but Terminator kills counted meant saved lives counted- often it could tell you a lot about a person. A woman who moved liked that wouldn't have bare sleeves; she'd probably picked up a rifle as soon as they'd allowed her one. He thought she might fit in, but he'd have to see her eyes up close. If they were dead eyes, then he wasn't sure. Having had your entire squad killed around you can kill you inside. Having an already dead person on the team endangers the whole team.

Lieutenant Ford pointed down the tunnel and directed Carrie Porter down to the next intersection. "Hey, Wall! Here's your package! You'll be moving to Omaha Base in 2 days to fill in the TOE for Porter's squad", he yelled after her as she dodged human traffic in the tunnel. She nodded over her shoulder figuring Ford wasn't big on formalities, and hid the wince at the mention of her former team.

She hiked up her pack, and then regretted it when her ribs gave her a twinge but didn't let it show on her face. She saw a soldier haul himself up off the tunnel floor and watch her approach. He leaned casually against the wall and didn't hide the fact he was examining her. As she got closer she noted the three kill patches on his jacket and she mentally nodded her approval that it matched her own three.

She knew that she wouldn't be a sniper with this squad- sniper-scout teams were few and far between. Being bruised and battered and not being able to carry, let alone losing, her rifle didn't help either. This was TechCom, blowing shit up- not that she couldn't take out equipment, but she was used to doing it from cover at 2,500 meters. She wasn't sure where she'd fit in here, and she knew that she was being sized up. After the short scrutinizing walk she looked squarely at Sergeant Wall and said in her clear contralto with just a hint of a Southern accent, "Corporal Carrie Porter".

"Collin Wall. Settle down on your pack, Porter. I'd introduce you around, but as you just heard, we won't be here for long." She slung her pack down against the wall, avoiding a stream of muck. It was harder to hide that hitch from the bruised ribs and had to lean against the stained wall. "Were you ready to leave Med yet, Porter?

"They don't keep you in Med for bruised ribs, and they still give you 40lbs of kit." She gave him a wicked grin and a wink of a green eye, from where she leaned against the wall with one hand, the other against her side. "I'm not complaining, I just make this orgasmic face sometimes it feels so good."

When she was able to straighten up she lightly waved at the battered pack and stated, "I plan to trade half of it before we move out". She watched closely to see his reaction. She could always play that off as a joke if necessary if he was a "by the book" guy. However, if her judge of character was right, by the way he leaned against the wall and the scruff on his face, he wasn't. His smile that went to his hazel eyes showed that she was right, and she began to think she might be OK here, even if she wouldn't be on a sniper team for a while.


	2. Chapter 2

II. Hard Rules

Collin lowered himself back down to his pad across from where Carrie had hovered over her pack. "I sent my Privates, Symms and Crow, to find our Trainee puppies and make sure they didn't get into any trouble. We've been here at Liberty Base for about 3 months, just doing pick up dirty work missions. We lost a few guys a while back, so I guess they're getting us back up to strength and a steady slot at Omaha." She nodded.

He was still judging her as she removed her jacket and then settled on her pack so she didn't have to sit on the damp floor. Even with her injuries she moved with efficiency. He'd thought the jacket had made her shoulders just seem wide, but now, only in her t-shirt and fatigue pants, he realized she probably needed that to haul around those big tank killing rifles. She wasn't bulky, more like the senior swim team captain he'd had a crush on freshman year of high school, right before Judgment Day. Though, he noted, Carrie at least had some hips.

She was also patterned with bruises now turning blue and red. All up her right arm and her neck was what he could see, and he could imagine what he couldn't. "Can you tell me what happened on that op? Or is it still under wraps?" he asked, picking casually at a fingernail, but there was nothing casual about the question.

She'd watched him as he'd taken her in, waiting, knowing the question was coming. "Details aren't important." She made a dismissive gesture. "Suffice it to say Rule #1 is the spotter doesn't leave your side; your rifle's not good in a close fight. He has the back up weapon. Rule #2 is that even the best trained monkeys go ape shit occasionally and don't do what they're supposed to. Rule #2 happens, and your spotter goes all Charge of the Light Brigade and gets himself killed with the rest of the squad, and leaves you all by your lonesome and just damned lucky to be alive."

Collin raised an eyebrow, "You don't seem too worked up about it." Maybe she was dead inside and just had a funny way of showing it.

Carrie's forehead creased and she rubbed it, "Oh, don't get me wrong. I care. I just -don't- get worked up about it. Rule #3, people will always die on you."

He could only silently agree, and wondered where the heck Symms and Crow were. "You have a lot of rules, Porter."

She leaned back against the wall and made a pillow of her jacket, "They're called 'Carrie's Rules to Live By'," she said with a low chuckle, "Because, I want to live. If you don't mind, you can call me Carrie. I've never been one for formalities. I always call everyone else by their last name, though. I don't have a rule number for that".

They heard the commotion coming down the tunnel and Collin knew that Crow and Symms were returning with their trainees, Klein and Forrow. He often felt they had to get this loud inside so that they could be as good as they were at being quiet outside. They could walk on jingle bells in the junkyard and not make a sound, but put them underground and you heard them coming from four intersections down.

Collin stood up and dryly announced, "Bring in the clowns. Privates Dave Crow and Jack Symms, and Trainees Aral Klein and Devin Forrow." Pointing in turn to a tall, wiry man with a shaved head, the tall, barrel-chested one and two thin boys that could barely reach her chin. She figured they were 15; that was when they took trainees, and these boys looked very green. Then Collin proved her assumption right about the Asian boy's name, "Someone found Devin wandering around after Judgment Day, too young to know his name".

Carrie took their scrutiny and shook hands around as Collin introduced her, "Corporal Carrie Porter." The Trainees ogled her, but she noticed it was her bruises they were wide eyed at. She knew Symms and Crow were aware those came with the territory. She remembered being that wide eyed trainee 10 years ago, just 3 years after Judgment Day. "Y'all can call me Carrie."

"Y'all!" Both Crow and Symms laughed and slapped their knees, "Where are you from?"

"Omaha Base, haven't y'all heard?" She replied coyly. Y'all was a Southernism she had never dropped. It was part of her mother and father. Stuck here so far away from home, she had to retain it, even though everyone laughed at it. So she played it up, even though she really didn't have the distinct accent of where she'd come from. "My family was from Tennessee. We were on vacation." She gave them a straight faced answer, and introductions seemed to be over.

Collin turned to address the trainees. Symms and Crow settled down on their pads and started passing a bottle back and forth. Carrie's strength was starting to lag, and whatever they'd given her for the pain was dragging on her, too. She dug around in her pack; she wanted to know what they'd deemed to supply her with. They'd just given her the pack in Med and told her where to go. Everything she possessed before was with her on that mission, and it'd been left on that hill when she'd been dragged away, straight to Med. Or, she'd assumed so, because it wasn't to be seen again. Not that she had much of value, no one did anymore, and she had always travelled light, all scouts did. What you did value were things like pictures and personal things, and who'd steal a picture of your mother? But, she didn't have a picture of her mother, or anyone. Anyway, her favorite thing she'd lugged around for two years was left on that hill; it was a cold piece of black metal, now probably in the shape of a pretzel. She stopped that line of thought and started a search for her bedding. She really was getting tired, and thought to herself, "Damn, those guys were loud".

"Hey, Carrie. You want some of this hooch?" Crow was holding a bottle next to her ear and it was obvious he'd been deep down in it.

"No, Med gave me pharmaceuticals that would have me drooling if I drank any of that." She tried to keep her mood light.

"Oh, I wouldn't mind seeing you drool," he drawled.

She forcefully responded, not even looking up, "I don't mess around with teammates!"

Everyone's heads turned.

"Oh... sorry, really. I'm just joking... I joke a lot." He looked remorsefully down at her as bent over her pack. Alcohol got the better of common sense, if he'd ever had any in situations like that. Her T-shirt rode up and he spied the rampant lion tattoo. He reached down and said, "Hey, what's that for?"

She shot up and had his hand bent behind him and his face against the wall on the other side of the tunnel before anyone realized what was going on, "Don't ever touch me unless you have permission!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Collin was up a millisecond later, "Crow that wasn't very smart. Carrie has rules. You guys move your party to another intersection. Puppies, it's bedtime"

As quickly as she'd grabbed him and moved, she let him go. She wasn't normally that quick tempered, but she didn't like people touching her when she wasn't prepared. No soldier did. She went back and sat down with her pack and put her elbows on her knees and covered her face. "Good move, Carrie. Now they think you're nuts. And, Fuck! That hurt." she thought.

Collin squatted down in front of her, "I don't blame you. He gets loud and obnoxious, but he's good at what he does. I'll definitely teach him a lesson I think he'll learn. I bet that hurt."

She couldn't help but grimly laugh, and that hurt, too. She looked up and rubbed her face, "More ways than one."

She looked to the ceiling, and sighed, "I'm not normally that short tempered, and I like getting into my cups. But, I'm also not normally this bruised up and dragged around. And, honestly, I feel naked without my weapon. I realized I was rooting around in my pack, knowing nothing in there was mine, but thinking something was missing. I haven't been without a weapon since I was 15 years old."

He nodded and reached behind his back, "I like to carry a little toy in reserve just in case. Pretend it's a teddy bear." He handed over a Glock. "We'll visit the armory tomorrow."

She gladly accepted his gift for the night. It was better than a lover snugged up next to her - not that she'd ever allowed anyone that close.

"My family was from Tennessee. We were on vacation." She gave them a straight faced answer.

Collin happened to look over towards Aral's pad and turned with the Trainees to dress them down them for not taking care of their gear.

"You think this is the proper way to stow your gear?" he asked.

He was crouched down pointing to Aral that he'd laid his rifle in a small puddle, when he heard Carrie setting down another rule. He swiveled on the balls of his feet to watch carefully to make sure the situation didn't get heated. Carrie returned to her task pink faced, but not appearing angry, then he saw Crow about to show his ass. He was amazed at the speed from the moment Crow's hand brushed her to when she pinned him. Collin wouldn't have been able to stop her motion.

Collin could tell if she'd really wanted to hurt Crow, not just send a message, she would have. Her quick release and retreat showed she was embarrassed and he needed to get down and straighten things out. He didn't need friction in the team. Once he'd established that Crow was a stupid drunk that he would lay down the law on, he was pretty sure he'd gotten that taken care of. It also dawned on him, he'd never slept without a weapon since he'd gotten one, either.


	3. Chapter 3

Cold Steel

Carrie's eyes opened and she looked at the wall she faced. She placed a hand against it and sighed. It felt really strange not waking up to the usual sight of steel or ceramic beside her. She felt more lost, then felt extremely guilty.

"Am I feeling sentimental about losing my rifle?" she thought puzzled.

Sure, anger she could understand, but she didn't even cry over people. But, she'd lost lots of people- she'd never lost a weapon. Tears spilled out of her eyes and she realized Wall was right- she'd lost her favorite teddy bear. She sniffed and rolled up and, forgetting to be careful, as ribs and muscles protested she let out a "Crap!" She breathed in and out through her mouth a couple of seconds until the pain slowly faded.

Rolling to face her Collin asked, "You OK?", from his pallet.

"Yeah, just forgot to be the turtle, not the rabbit." she replied, and then remembering her tears, wiped them away. She hoped he would think they were from the pain.

He knew she was crying before she sat up. It justified his assessment that she was still alive. Even if she was crying over a weapon, not the buddies he thought she was crying over, she was at least feeling something.

Don't let anyone tell you different, but they all cried. The trainees cried because their feet hurt more than they'd ever hurt before. They came back from their first fight and they couldn't let go of their weapons, and they cried. The really old Sergeants cried, but they usually hid it behind a bottle of hooch, a screaming fit and a few broken teeth. This sergeant cried many times as slowly his whole family was lost to the work camps or in battles. Everyone cried. Well, no one was sure; they don't think General John Connor ever cried. 

Carrie started tightening the laces on her boots that she'd loosened so that she could sleep. Collin said, "We'll get some chow, then hit the armory. We'll get our kits squared away since we'll be off to Omaha tomorrow."

"Sounds like a plan". She finished her bow and tucked the laces into the top of her boot.

Collin stood over her and offered her a hand, knowing that she would be a bit stiff this morning. "Need a hand? Err… Can I touch you?"

"Technically, wouldn't this be me touching you?" She grabbed his wrist and she was levered up. She tucked her shirt in, and then slowly and gingerly reached down for the Glock, "I guess you want this back?"

Collin waved her off, "You can keep it for a little while longer".

They hit the chow line and were dished up something resembling last night's dinner that was put through a blender. They found a spot and stood against the wall to eat, though, if given a choice wouldn't have.

Collin came to a gray lump and queried Carrie, "What do you think that is?"

Carrie raised an eyebrow, "Looks like a piece of my rifle after the T-800 stopped beating me with it."

"Jesus, Carrie, how can you joke about that?" Collin shoveled the rest of the puzzling concoction into his mouth.

"How can I not?" Just like some people got morbidly humorous about a person dying, she had to joke about losing her prize possession. "I think it was a mushroom." The mushroom had looked just like the piece of the scope that bounced past her, right before she thought she was going to die. She finished hers up as well, scraping her spoon across the plate. It may have been unpalatable, but when you didn't have much you ate what you had. 

Dark humor aside, she was in good spirits and she figured it was because of the field trip to the armory. She'd always liked visiting the armory. New and interesting things came in all the time, especially if they'd knocked off a Skynet supply convoy or discovered an old cache. She liked the smell of the gun oil, metal and cosmoline- the aroma of things that kept you safe.

The armory was just a closed off tunnel end with a counter flanked by a large metal door. The armorer met them at the counter and Collin described their needs. She needed something light, though she hated admitting her current limitations. When the grenade launcher was mentioned she practically bristled- lobbing explosives when she was used to precision just wasn't her nature.

"What about a shotgun?" The armorer asked.

"I'd prefer not to get close enough again to make that effective," she replied, though she doubted the effectiveness, "And spraying pellets all over the place isn't my style either".

"Uhuh," he eyed her bruises knowingly and turned and walked with his keys and unlocked the vault.

The armorer came out with a rifle and said, "Looks like you're getting a tried and true M16 A1, and you get the grenade launcher thrown in for free." It seemed tiny and inadequate compared to her former rifle and she regretted her requirement, but she would be able to carry this thing and not slow anybody down.

Curiosity got the best of her and she asked, "Do you happen to have a XM500?"

Collin asked, "What's that?"

She looked away, "It's my rifle."

Collin's arms crossed, "You can't carry that, and you don't have any use for that! You can't haul that all the way to Omaha!"

"I know, I was just wondering. There aren't a lot of them around." She turned back to the armorer, "You don't have to bring it out, I was just wondering."

"Funny you should ask. They brought one in all beat up to use for parts. Yours?" He knew the answer from the color of her face; he knew that often soldiers got attached. If this was the one that went with that rifle, he was surprised she was alive, let alone up and walking so soon.

Carrie looked down at the floor, and both Collin and the armorer were surprised by her reaction. She gave a barking laugh and said, "Maybe you did eat a piece of my rifle." Then she looked back up and asked hopefully, "Did they bring in anything else? A Desert Eagle?"

Collin looked at her, shaking his head, "When I called my Glock a toy, I should have realized your preferred your teddy bears with larger claws."

The armorer's reply was to simply return to the vault. He came back with a box, which he opened and showed the contents. He removed the magazine, pulled back the slide and checked to make sure there wasn't a round in the chamber. He then handed her the weapon.

Carrie could barely breathe. She cleared her throat a couple of times, and was finally able to ask, "Will you issue it to me?"

He replied, "Seems like it was yours anyway, we were just holding it for you. And, this". He slid something small across the counter to her. Carrie looked down, then with a shaking hand picked up the small red and white cat figure that was still attached to an o-ring from her rifle. She looked at it in her hand for a moment, the quickly closed her fingers around it and shoved it in her pocket, she nodded her thanks.

Collin realized he should finish up the transaction, "So, we'll need a supply of ammo for her new rifle, cleaning kits, and if you've got it, a holster and ammo for her cannon." Carrie couldn't help but smile at that.

Carrie sat on her blanket with one leg spread out in front of her, one leg folded up against her chest. She had had her Desert Eagle field stripped and spread out on a blanket within minutes of returning to the pads. It was calming to her to have it returned to her, and she was lost the ritual of disassembly and cleaning. She was oblivious to the ruckus of the privates and trainees readying their gear for moving out.

Collin interrupted her reverie finally, "Carrie, start preparing your kit. We'll get this all squared away asap so that we can see what else you need."

She quickly re-assembled her gun and holstered it on her thigh. As she was making neat piles of her equipment, Collin asked her, "So, what's Omaha like? I've only been here at Liberty, Normandy and City Hall."

"Omaha's pretty good compared to most of the other bases, bunkers and warrens I've been in, and you know scouts travel 'round. Omaha Base is in an old underground parking garage so if you get billeted anywhere but the bottom floor it's not damp like in the tunnels." She pointedly wiped her foot in the muck, "They also have an underground river or something nearby, I don't know, but they have consistent power and they have greenhouses. Food's much better. You won't be eating things resembling my rifle." She looked over her shoulder smiling, "There are lots of friendly people there. It's a good place."

"Do you have a guy there?"

"No"

"A girl?"

She laughed, "Oh, no, it's not like that." She sighed and turned fully around, "Remember Rule #3…Everybody dies. I don't have anyone except my buddies and, it's better that way." She turned back to her task.

"…I don't have anyone except my buddies, and it's better that way."

Collin realized he was grilling her and decided he should lay off. Carrie had interesting philosophies on life but she seemed to have a good grasp on why she did things. He didn't have more than buddies himself either. He wondered if he had rules that he didn't know about.

"Wall!" A bellow came down the hall from Lieutenant Ford, "Up here!"

Collin turned to Crow and Symms and ordered, "Make sure the puppies get everything jammed in their packs right. I think Ford's giving us the orders for moving out." He knew he was letting his new Corporal off light, but there would be plenty to lay on her later.


	4. Chapter 4

IV. Hot Fight

They stood at the heavy steel blast door at dark the next evening. Their orders were simple, "Go to Omaha Base, get further instructions there." They had fifteen miles to travel, try not to be seen and actually avoid killing any metal they saw while on the way, unless necessary. The last would be fighting their instinct. The sentries scanned the immediate area, threw the large bolt and let them exit with a hearty farewell.

They made slow, steady progress, skirting several live firefights and taking cover from overflying HKs. Carrie had led the way, since she was familiar with the territory. Four hours, but only about six miles as the crow flies, passed quickly. Carrie was prone at the top of a pile of rubble with the night vision scope. She signaled for Wall to join her, and he scrambled quickly to join her. "Do the trainees need a rest?" she asked.

Collin looked over his shoulder, "No, I think they're good."

Carrie rubbed a crease in her sweaty forehead, "I need a rest," she said apologetically. "There's a warren down there. If we can take thirty, I'd appreciate it. Then we can hit another one I know in another 4 hours, barring delays, for the day." If it were winter, and the night longer, they could make it in one night, however summer made it an over-day trip.

Collin nodded, kicking himself mentally for not remembering her injuries, "Right. Sounds good."

Carrie took a flashlight out, left her pack with Collin and approached the warren's entrance from the rear. At the entrance she slung her rifle and freed her side arm. She stood to the side and with the flashlight tapped out a pattern on a board. She waited three heartbeats, then moved the board aside, waited three more, and then slid down the rabbit's hole, gun and flashlight first.

Collin watched Carrie's feet disappear down the entrance and waited. Her head popped back up and she gave the all clear signal. He sent Aral first, and then one at a time they all entered the small way station.

Warrens ranged from little more than holes in the ground to take cover in, all the way up to mini-bunkers. Minimally fortified and provisioned, they were still lifesavers, especially for travelling between bases. Some offered caches of weapons and provisions; this warren was barely more than a bolt hole. They were in close quarters, but not sitting right on top of one another.

Carrie sat on the packed dirt floor between Aral and Devin. She rooted in her pack and came out with two much-coveted acetaminophen tablets. She chewed them to hopefully make them work faster, grimacing at the bitterness, then washed them down with water from her canteen. She started into a ration bar, and leaned back with her eyes closed.

Collin looked around the dimly lit area; Aral and Devin were like scared animals, their eyes gleaming. This was their first time out of their familiar area. Before they would always return to Liberty Base, but now they were going to be far from home. Collin ordered, "This is a good time to eat something. Next stop is 4 hours out."

Everyone chewed the bland, but nutritious bars and sipped flat, metallic tasting water from their canteens. Twenty minutes passed quietly without the banter or chatter that would normally accompany mealtimes underground. Up here too much noise got you noticed.

Collin looked over and saw Carrie sat very still with her half eaten ration bar in her hand. He reached out and took her pack, "Symms, Crow, split up Carrie's pack between you."

Carrie's eyes popped open, "Don't", she said firmly, meeting his eyes.

"You're about dead here. We still have half a night to hike, and I'm not arguing."

"Dammit," she wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, realizing she was still sweating. She looked at the ceiling, "Fine", she resigned. She shoved the rest of her ration bar in her dry mouth.

They split up her pack and passed the lightened shell back to her. Collin turned to Symms and passed him the night vision goggles, "Peek out there and get an all clear."

Symms practically had to wedge himself into the tunneled entrance and his boots still hung into the shelter as he looked around. However he slid back into the warren like an oiled otter, his face serious. "Metal, two Ogres, four T-800s- that's weird."

Carrie was puzzled, too, "There's nothing around here, and they normally don't travel together like that. Small number of Ts and doubled tanks? Like a human patrol." She frowned.

Collin said, "It doesn't matter, not our orders. We'll wait them out. We'll report it when we get to Omaha. We don't have enough people with anything here big enough to stop tanks with anyway."

Carrie didn't know if she wanted to laugh or cry.

"Metal, two Ogres, four T-800s, that's weird." Symms reported.

Collin was concerned. Anytime Skynet changed the way it did things it often meant bad stuff. However, he had his orders and they were specific, "Do Not Engage!" When he gave the order to sit tight, nobody was happy. However, no one would have been eager to be involved in the suicide of attacking an Ogre with these weapons. He sent Symms back up the hole to watch for the all clear.

He'd seen Carrie's look and understood it perfectly. He wasn't happy with the percentage of pea shooters the team currently carried. Symms carried a MM1 grenade launcher but those had their limitations. Once they reached Omaha and got the team back up to full personnel he'd re-evaluate their weapons distribution.

Collin had always preferred the conventional projectile weapons to the plasma rifles. He always felt the plasma rifles, though more effective, always brought you to the level of Terminator- elevated you to Terminator level killing power, but he didn't like that feeling. And, you essentially cleaned parts of them with Windex, and he always thought that just wasn't right. Though, he found it strangely appropriate that they cleaned Skynet's weapons with ammonia made with their own urine. The late Corporal Brandt had carried a heavy plasma rifle that might have melted a couple of heads, and maybe take a track off an Ogre for them, it was sorely missed now

Once Symms slid back down to give the all clear, they waited a few more minutes, and left the warren one at a time. Carrie was the last to leave the warren and as she was levering herself out she saw dirt blossom behind Wall as he was barely missed while cresting the pile of scrap. She scrambled to exit and made for cover- you didn't want to be caught in a warren if the tunnel entrance was detected and collapsed.

As she vaulted over a toppled concrete pillar she practically landed on Aral and Devin huddled together. She slapped them both on the shoulders. "Spread out!" she yelled at them, and they parted and found separate cover.

She peered over and spied two of the battle units laying down fire where she'd seen Wall go over. She thought, "OK, buddy look over here", she took aim, let out half a breath, and pinged one of them on the head. A mere mosquito bite, but it got its attention. Once its head turned, she lined up her sites, squeezed the trigger and took out one of its eyes. She didn't even have time to think what her XM500 would have done compared to this toy. However, this stalled its firing enough for her to take aim again and take out the second eye. She moved quickly to another position. With it blinded, but not out of commission, it fired its plasma rifle where it detected her position should have been.

Carrie loaded a grenade in her launcher and took satisfaction in watching fire blossom around the shiny metal robot. Its power pack, or maybe its rifle's, blew up in addition, lighting up the night. In the mean time, the diversion was enough that Wall and his privates had taken out the other in a wonderful, secondary light show.

She spied Wall finally, and his urgent signal to retreat immediately. They had to move out quickly; they didn't know where the other two and their accompanying Ogres had gone, but they would have heard the commotion and would probably be coming now.

Carrie went to round up the Trainees and found Aral curled up whimpering. It seemed Wall might have named them appropriately. "Aral, it's over. It's time to get out of here," she reached out squeezed his shoulder, he was trembling. "We have to move out! Get up soldier!" Aral gritted his teeth and moved. In retreat Carrie lobbed a grenade at the entrance of the warren.

Collin had felt the earth move and heat behind him as he topped the hill. "Fuck!" he thought, "So much for 'All clear'!" Plasma fire started burning above and around him. Crow was to the right and Symms far to the left of him. Symms gave him an apologetic shrug. There was so much fire they couldn't even raise their heads above to see what was going on, let alone return fire.

He wondered if Carrie had made it out of the warren before this had started. When there was a lull in the fire, he wondered no longer. Symms rolled up and opened up with a couple of grenades. Both Crow and Collin fired their M16s hoping to do what damage they could, and they watched their bullets bounce off metal. They held back on their own grenades as Symms launched two more- no need to waste extra. Eventually, something hit and Crow and Symms cheered when double balls of fire erupted. Wall just felt relief that he'd survived, but knew they'd have to get going quickly before the Ogres came to check on its friends.

Collin spotted Carrie and signaled to move quickly, she nodded. He watched her gentle, then firm handling of Aral with approval. He was puzzled at first when she pushed another grenade into the launcher, but then understood when she took out the tunnel to the bolt hole. It was no longer a safe haven.

They pushed hard for a good hour before they felt safe enough to stop under the slab of an old collapsed building. Their firefight had brought many over flights of HKs, but they had left the searchlights in the distance.

Carried crouched on one knee facing Collin, she rubbed sweat off her face with her knit cap, "We're not going to make any warren or bunker by daylight."

He looked out at the night sky, then down at the black rubber watch on his left wrist, "We have about 2 hours until sunrise. We can push on until then and find a hole to sleep in. It'll get us closer to Omaha Base, and farther away from that." He nodded his head to the horizon. "How much farther do you reckon to Omaha?"

She looked over his left shoulder, examining a map in her head, "Probably about 7 more miles. We had to backtrack so much, and I don't know how much more circling we'll have to do."

"OK, 2 hours, then sleep." Collin looked over at his trainees. "Take Aral under your wing."

"He's green. I've never had a trainee before." Carrie said, "I'm not the Mama Bear type."

"Yeah, he's about as green as they come. Treat him like a little brother" Collin instructed simply.

"Mine didn't get old enough to be a trainee." Carrie said, eyeing Aral huddled with his head in his arms.

"Yeah, mine, too." He stood, then offered Carrie a hand up. "Drink up for 5 then we're out of here." He then went to relay the word to Symms and Crow who were standing sentry with their arms ready."

Carrie went to Aral and sat down next to him. "Looks like we're a pair now, Aral." He turned his head over and looked at her. "We've had a hard night tonight, but tomorrow we'll be at Omaha and we'll have a warm bed." She patted him on the shoulder. She hoped it was enough for now, it was the best she could do.


	5. Chapter 5

Warm Bed

The team travelled without incident for what seemed longer than two hours and found a suitable area to hole up for the day. They broke up, each finding a small cranny or crevice from which they had a good view for their watch, but hidden enough for their rest time. Devin was paired with Collin and Aral with Carrie, both wedged into their little nests as the sky was starting to turn pink.

Carrie set the stock of her M16 in the crook where her thigh met her hip, and leaned back. She still had trouble finding a position that didn't hurt her bruises, but she finally found a compromise. She could still scan a little area and see Collin's nest, she quietly said to Aral to her left, "Go to sleep."

"I've never seen the sky like that." He was in awe of the sun rising. He'd only seen the night sky lit up by flying killing machines, search lights and plasma cannons.

"It's the way we should be living. We weren't meant to live underground, by night. We were meant to see this everyday." She watched his eyes lit by the sun that she'd started growing up running and playing under. The sun he'd spent only a couple of years with, years he didn't even remember. "We should go to sleep."

She knew it'd be hard for him to tear his eyes away from the growing brightness. Her first daytime above ground after the years in the tunnels was an amazing experience. Eventually, he curled up on himself and fell asleep, and once he was asleep she was able to quickly doze off.

Collin had ordered the sleep schedule then watched his team climb up into positions for the day and settle in. He noted Crow and Symms were asleep almost immediately, but that Carrie had to talk Aral down before both of their heads nodded. He planned to let Devin sleep the full day; puppies weren't conditioned yet for that long of a haul.

He sat quietly with his thoughts, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon. He didn't like being out in the day, he felt open and exposed. He'd only spent three days out in the open in a hole and he didn't relish the thought of ever doing it again. At least in a bunker or a warren you weren't left sitting watch by yourself like this. It allowed you to think too much on your own without a buddy to talk with. It let you to dwell on things you might want to leave alone.

He preferred the fight; in a fight it was mostly instinct. It also let you burn off the pain you felt, so when you did think about things you believed you'd done something. When you thought of your parents hauled off to die in the camps, you think maybe you killed enough to make up for that. Or perhaps the HK you blew up one night was equal to the one that vaporized your little brother many years ago. But, it never added up.

Carrie's was fortunate that fatigue and her injuries brought dreamless sleep so that when a rock tossed by Crow woke her she did not startle. She nodded her awareness and started her watch.

She was used to sitting quietly for long stints, and many times during the day. Sniper-scouts frequently did day missions because Skynet didn't expect them. She would often lay with her rifle in a crevice or under a slab quietly for hours. It was a solitary existence even with her spotter, because they didn't converse more than necessary to avoid detection.

At first times like this used to lead to her thinking of what if her family had never come here for that Motocross rally for Chris, if she'd given more of her food to Molly would she have been stronger, or what Tennessee was like now. Now she usually just thought of things like if increasing the powder in the load of her rounds would kill machines better or just kill her.

Today, with Aral at her side, she started thinking of Chris and Molly. She stretched and dug into her pocket and pulled out the cat figure. She rolled it around in her fingers a couple of times then put it back in her pocket and resumed scanning the horizon as the sun went down.

The plaque read, "In Memory of Those Who Gave Their Lives on Omaha Beach June 6, 1944". Carrie brushed her hand across it in ritual as she passed the marker; it was polished bright from the reverence given by many soldiers' passage. The bronze statue which had stood over it had toppled many years before, but it still stood sentry for the entrance to the tunnel which led to Omaha Base.

The first sentry station was met after walking a short maze of tunnels with Carrie pointing out the hidden markers directing the correct path to follow. When challenged Collin countered, "Sergeant Wall reporting with my team, transferring from Liberty Base."

"We've been expecting you. Messenger came yesterday. Please, report to Captain Barber when you get to the end. Welcome to Omaha." The sentry looked past Collin, and smiled "Hey, Porter, welcome back."

"Good to be back", she smiled back and took a proffered hand, and was unexpectedly pulled in close.

"Sorry to hear about Bradley and everybody," he said as he squeezed her elbow.

"Yeah, thanks." She shrugged, and was happy he hadn't hugged her.

As they moved on, Collin turned his head, "Who's that?"

"I don't recall him", she answered truthfully.

Omaha Base seemed palatial compared to most others. Because it was an underground parking garage, it had high ceilings, unheard of in the tunnels and other bases. Makeshift rooms were made up of half walls of scrounged plywood, drywall or furniture, so it had the feel of an old office building with cubicles. It still had the half lit dimness of the tunnels to conserve energy, though, lit by fluorescent fixtures that hung down from above. Some, after living in the tight tunnels, could get a feeling of agoraphobia coming to Omaha. Carrie liked Omaha Base and detested the tunnels, just like she liked being out during the day, contrary to most her brethren.

Level One wasn't too busy, as patrols were out, but as the night wore on intel would be coming in and things might get crazy. The team leaned against the scrounged plywood that made up the wall to Captain Barber's office. They had shucked their packs and weapons, happy to be lightened of their load.

While they waited they watched soldiers passing and the newcomers took in the new surroundings. Several people greeted Carrie warmly and welcomed her back. One tall, lean soldier carrying a clipboard looked up and stopped short, "Carrie! You're back", he beamed.

"Davies, hi", she replied "Wall, do you mind?"

"Not at all," he waved with his hand.

She led Davies over to an opposite wall, "I didn't know if you were coming back here," he frowned, "I'm sorry about the team."

She shrugged, looking down, "It happens," she knew she'd be having this conversation many times in the next few days.

He stepped in closer, eyeing her bruises "God, you're beat up," his hand ran down her arm lifting it up to look closer, "You OK?"

Carrie stiffened, glanced over at the team, "Yeah,"

He leaned in close, "You'll meet me after shift?"

She leaned away and crossed her arms, "Davies, I'm tired. I just walked for two nights and slept in a hole over day".

"Soon?" He brushed her hair behind her ears.

She reached up and snatched his hand down, her green eyes flashing, "Please don't do that! Give me a little while. I'll see you around." She turned tight lipped and stalked back to the guys. "Enjoy the show?" She tried to rub the crease out of her brow as she watched Davies' retreating back.

Collin took in Omaha Base as a whole and pondered its differences to every other tunnel and base he'd been in. Carrie was right, people were friendly here, and she seemed well liked. He wondered if it was because the openness of the surroundings made it seem as if the earth was not crushing you.

As they waited, the blonde headed man who stopped seemed very happy to see Carrie; however Collin noted she didn't introduce him. Collin couldn't ignore Symms' and Crow's banter.

"Oooh, looks like he already has permission to touch her." Crow murmured.

"I thought she didn't have a fella," Symms commented.

"Looks like he thinks he has a girl," Crow countered. "Oooh, permission denied! He's lucky he's not against the wall!"

"You guys shut the fuck up", Collin muttered to them as Carrie crossed back over to them. It was obvious she wouldn't take the joking well.

"Sergeant Wall", a lieutenant stepped out of the office, "I'm Lieutenant Ferdinand. Captain Barber will be busy for a while. Return at 08:00 for debriefing. You will be billeted where Bradley's squad was previously. Porter, welcome back."

"Yes, sir", Collin responded.

"Thank you, sir." Carrie replied.

They shouldered their packs and Carrie led them down to Level Four of her old familiar home. She was grateful that most people were out, because she needed to deal with the off kilter feeling she had before she faced more old friends. She was returning home, to the same bed, same sounds and smells, but with people she barely knew.

She turned a corner made by an old filing cabinet and a bookshelf and entered a room walled by pegboard, with eight stained mattresses on the floor. "Here it is. Home, Sweet, Home." She went to a mattress in the far corner, dropped her pack onto it and hung her rifle from a peg on the wall. She wistfully noted where her old one had hung previously. "Aral, here next to me. Hang up your rifle here."

Crow whistled, "Wow, nice digs. No muck!"

Everyone else looked around, then chose a pad. Collin was across from Carrie with Devin next to him, and thankfully the jokers were farthest away next to the entrance. When they got more team members they would fill in the other spaces. They started unloading their packs into the rare, but welcome, storage of scavenged bookshelves.

Collin stood and eyed the penciled mural of a rampant lion on the concrete wall, "Was that your unit's crest?"

"Yeah, it was", she unconsciously rubbed her tattooed back. He now figured what Crow had spied the other evening.

"Hunh, ours is a Manticore, essentially like a winged lion." And, he pulled up his right pant leg and showed her the black tattoo on his calf.

"I see," she nodded, and quickly changed the subject; "The latrines are located on the southwest corner, potable water on the northwest and washing water on the northeast. Rec and chow are on Level Six".

"Washing water?" Symms asked incredulously, "Things are different here!"

"Yes, please make use of it", Carrie responded dryly, "Oh, Wall, Barber's pretty straight and narrow so you'll want to be crisp for your debriefing."

"You'll be with me", he informed her.

"OK, then I guess I'll be crisp, too", she quipped.

"Aral, first thing you should do when you come in is clean your rifle. If it gets dirty it won't work properly. But, you didn't fire it, so just wipe it down." Carrie wanted to get him into the ritual of taking care of his gear.

Normally she would have come straight in and started on her rifle. She wouldn't have eaten, said hello to anyone, possibly even dressed a wound, she would have cleaned her weapon. However, things were in disarray right now and she felt she'd been negligent. She would need to get back into routine, so she took care of business.

She hadn't had an M16 in years, however the duty was ingrained into her and she was quickly finished with her task. She gave it a final wipe down with a rag, laid it in front of her and studied it for a minute. She pulled the plastic cat toy from her pocket and just noticed how some of the red was wearing off the dress it wore. She pried open the ring from her XM500 which was still attached to it, and then worked it into the ring that attached the sling to the stock. The rifle felt like hers now.

Collin ran a rod down the bore of his rifle ignoring the jabber of Symms and Crow as they also took to the task of weapons maintenance. Even with their chatter, it was quiet here and his thoughts turned inward.

Collin was highly impressed with the set up of Omaha's sleeping quarters. He'd heard stories, but he'd always thought they were overblown. Not that Omaha was Shangri La, but dry beat tunnel muck any day of the week, and places to stow your gear was gravy on top of that.

This place was so different than the hardscrabble existence of the other places he'd been in. He thought of Carrie's warning of Captain Barber's discipline and thought maybe that's why this place was unique. At first glance, it appeared well run and it seemed to turn out good people.

He finished with his cleaning and racked his rifle. Carrie was doing a good job taking over Aral as she showed him the ropes as she cleaned her rifle. He had appreciated her reluctance in taking over, but her performance showed that she was taking on her responsibilities without hesitation. He watched with curiosity as she pulled out the little doll that the armorer had returned to her. She would tell him some day when she was ready, he figured.

"I'm ready for some food," he finally broke the quiet in the corner.

Carrie looked up from her weapon, "Level Six should have something cold right now. I think I'll take some rack time, and take my boots off for the first time in three days."

'I'll have Aral bring something back for you," he said. He was just noticing the dark rings under her eyes; they probably mirrored everyone else's in the room. "Then we'll all take some sleep before you and I have to meet the Captain".

"Sounds like a plan," she responded as she started unlacing her boots.


	6. Chapter 6

VI. Hot Body

After a cold meal of an unidentifiable starchy loaf and tofu, Collin returned to their bunks with the trainees. He'd ordered Symms and Crow to stay and hang out in rec. It was better that way because they would probably gab the whole rest period and keep everyone else awake.

Collin had to chuckle when he saw Carrie sprawled face down on her mat, covered in a blanket decorated with teddy bears. Then his face shadowed at a pale, well muscled leg that lay uncovered, marred by even more bruises that stopped where her boot would start. The calf was circled by a darker contusion that was almost a photographic image of four metallic digits. He shook his head. He'd rather take a plasma bolt than get up close and personal with a terminator like that. A clatter arose behind him; one of the puppies must have tumbled over his own feet. He turned to hush them.

"Brad, you're like a bull in a china shop. Can't a girl get some shut eye?" Carrie mumbled, rolled onto her side and covered her head with her blanket.

"Who's Brad?" Devin whispered.

"Shush! Probably her old team lead. Now get your boots off and into your sack. We've got a couple of hours to sleep. Make good of the time", Collin mildly scolded them.

He removed his blouse and hunkered down to unburden himself of his own boots. He was weary himself and ready to lie quietly even if he didn't sleep. As he laid back and rolled on his side to face the wall he was happy to note he had a plain brown blanket.

He'd have to meet Crow and Symms on the sparring mats to prove himself if his was covered in teddy bears.

_She could still feel the heat of her anger, and hissed "Damn you, Cress!" However, her mind was still clear on the mission and her eye glued to the scope of her rifle. She had the aerial HK in her sights, aimed right in the proper place to kill it if she could group three rounds in the proper place. She squeezed off the first round, but didn't feel the recoil as she was yanked back by a painful grip on her right leg and thrown against the berm ten feet behind her. She struggled to catch her breath, writhing as the Terminator stalked towards her. She fought to free her Desert Eagle, her right arm refusing to function, her fingers fumbling. It might be a toy against this monster, but she could possibly get lucky. Her mind was beginning to unfog as she noticed its slow movement as it picked up her rifle with its single functioning arm…_

Collin's knee dug into Carrie's upper arm and his elbow into her upper back. She had a fistful of his T-shirt sleeve twisted in her fingers.

"What the hell, Brad?" she cried, her eyes opening wide.

"It's Wall, Carrie," he said calmly, closely in her ear.

Her quick breathing slowed, she blinked a few times, winced and then let out a sigh, "Shit," she untangled her hand from the faded black fabric and Collin rocked back on his heels. Carrie untangled herself from her blanket, wincing as she flexed her arm and leaned against the rough wall. She held her blanket in a ball at her stomach, wrapping her arms around her bare legs.

"I'm sorry I had to do that. You were reaching for your sidearm," he explained.

"Not your fault. I had to do that for Bradley more times to count." She shook her head, frowning, gazing at and running her hand over the bruise on her calf, "I've never done it before, myself, though."

"Do you want to talk about it?" He probed. "You kept saying 'it has only one arm'?" He hoped he wasn't pushing too much.

Her head jerked up. She wondered what spectacle she had put on and just now noticed Aral and Devin furtively watching from their pads, "One was plenty."

He grunted and took that as a no. "There's the food Aral brought back for you. Then we can get to cleaning up for debriefing."

"Sounds like a plan." She reached for the paper wrapped bundle that was on her neatly folded fatigue pants, next to her Desert Eagle. As she chewed she eyed it warily and realized that she might need to rethink where she stowed her sidearm when she slept.

Level Four was beginning to buzz with the activity of returning troops. Carrie pulled her pants back over her bruised legs and shoved her feet back into her boots without lacing them. She stood and buttoned her fly, stretching and feeling a couple of new bruises. "We should wash up before the water stations get too busy."

Aral looked at Carrie expectantly as they arrived at the long tin trough along the concrete wall. "You act like you've never seen water before." Then she thought that maybe he hadn't quite like this. She grabbed a basin from the shelf above the sink, motioning him to follow suit and turned the small tap. Water spit from it then a slow, cloudy stream filling the plastic tub. Aral still looked like a deer frozen in headlights and Carrie sighed.

"You're my trainee, not my baby. I'm not going to wash you like one!" She then laughed and shook his shoulder. She realized he was a clean slate and she was going to have to lead him in everything, otherwise she'd have one grubby puppy at her heels all the time. "OK, just follow me."

Carrie took off her t-shirt and stood in her sports bra, dampened the corner of her t-shirt and started wiping off the dust and grime from their walk. She liked washing up after a mission, like her mother used to make her wash up after a hard day's playing. She wasn't washing resin from tumbling around the pine needles of the mountains of Tennessee off of her; she was washing the dust of crumbled buildings, houses and lives. Even with those thoughts, this habit still made her feel good, because it was tied to memories of before Judgment Day. Many people got melancholy when they thought of their everyday lives before, mostly she didn't. Her mood began to lighten; she never was one to wallow in bad moods.

She watched Aral swipe at his grime and grinned. He was a scrawny kid, most that age were, but she thought maybe he'd turn wiry. She could maybe imagine a wiry Aral hauling around thirty pound tank rifle. Cress wasn't much taller, but was strong. She then wiped that thought from her mind. "You missed a spot." She reached out and scrubbed behind his ear.

"Not the Mama Bear type, huh?" Collin spoke up behind her. He was concentrating on his image in the filmy, polished metal mirror above the sink, trying to scratch away his stubble with his knife.

"He could have grown potatoes back there." She snickered, even more nostalgic thoughts of the origins of that phrase cascaded through her mind.

"You've got your own vegetable patch starting," Collin gestured at her back with his improvised razor.

"Where?" She craned her neck. When Collin reached out she shrugged and gave him her shirt. He wiped at a spot between her shoulder blades, but it was stubborn. However, so was Collin and he seemed determined to gently remove the mark. He placed his other hand on her shoulder and Carrie felt her face turn pink. She bit the inside of her cheek and rubbed a spot between her brows.

She let him take one more wipe then couldn't help but start to giggle. She looked over her shoulder and at his questioning eyes, "It's a birthmark!" She laughed her eyes twinkling.

She turned and saw his embarrassed look and prayed her bright face wasn't giving her away as she took back her shirt. She leaned over and poured the basin over her hair, grateful for the cold water on her red face.

Collin scraped at his face with his knife; it was sharp, but he still didn't like hacking at his growth. That is why he always let it go as long as possible before he took on the task of shaving, and it wasn't always that you had enough water to do it properly with. However, if Carrie said the new Captain wanted a shiny face, he wanted to get in his good graces.

When Carrie had taken off her shirt he'd found himself studying her back, and again the pattern of blues and blacks, as well as an old plasma burn. There was nothing immodest about standing around uncovered in this day and age. Modesty had gone away the day you had to share a basin with a hundred other people, if you were lucky enough to be in a place that had enough water for washing. However, Collin found himself admiring the shape of her shoulders, and he quickly turned back to the mirror.

He quietly observed Devin at his side obviously had a fastidious foster mother and didn't need as much coaching as Aral. He found himself amused by Carrie's handling of Aral, she seemed to know the right tack to take with him and he thought they'd make a good pair. Despite her protestations, she was acting just like a Mama Bear and he had to say it, and her funny saying inspired him.

"You've got your own vegetable patch starting," he replied.

Her eyes and grin held a challenge as she passed him her shirt and turned her back to him, and he was never one to resist a challenge. He carefully wiped at a brown patch, not wanting to scrub at the bruises, but it wouldn't budge. He placed his hand up on her shoulder and instantly regretted it. He felt her muscles tense, her heat rise, which was met with a pulling deep inside of him. Luckily, that awkward situation was broken when she started to shake with laughter; he met her eyes, confused.

"It's a birthmark!" her eyes sparkling over her other shoulder. He could only smile sheepishly and hand back her shirt, he didn't trust himself to say anything coherent. He watched her pour water over her head and thought a cold shower would do him good, too.

Carrie and Collin stood against the wall people watching while once again waiting to get into Captain Barber's presence. At this time of the duty day the pace was not as leisurely and men and women were busily moving about their business trying to shuffle all the information they'd received during the night's patrols. Maps were unfurled on tables and some soldiers, still dusty from their walks or even fire fights were huddled around detailing important news.

Collin turned to Carrie, "So, clue me in. Does Captain Crispy want salutes and such?"

Carrie's eyes grew wide as she looked over his shoulder, stood straight and saluted, "Good morning, Captain Barber."

Collin spun around, dreading his fate and found no one. He turned back to Carrie who was covering her smile with her hand. "I'm sorry," she said, her eyes belying her apology.

Collin chuckled, "I'll have to watch my step with you," and then added, "I guess you're feeling better? I hadn't seen this side of you yet."

"Oh, yeah. It's just good to be home; when I'm not home I'm all business. And, since we aren't home a lot, we have to squeeze a lot of fun into a short period." Carrie grinned at Collin. Then she cleared her throat, "Anyway, the captain likes to keep things straight and his soldiers clean, but he's not big on the bowing and scraping. You won't see a lot of saluting here. He's a straight shooter and a hands-on kind of leader." Looks over Collins shoulder again, raises eyebrows, then smiles and says, "And, this time, it's the real deal. Good morning, Captain Barber."

Captain Barber ushered Carrie and Collin into his spartan office, and they sat opposite the tall, black officer at the map table. Barber sized them both up for a few seconds, he knew Porter of course, however after her obvious beating things could change. She didn't have the wary eyes of a soldier that was soon to go over the edge and sat easily and patiently in her chair. Wall was an unknown, however the way he saw Porter interacting with him was good and he also seemed attentive, yet calm.

Barber hadn't gotten to head a base as a Captain by being a fool, as most were headed by Colonels. He also didn't care to move up to a Colonel that fast, because that fast a promotion usually meant too much ambition, ambition meant too much risk and risk meant you lost a lot of people for not a lot of gain. You had to take risk, but balancing risk was what he was good at. He did that by choosing good people, and making sure he had good intelligence to send those people on the right missions. He regretted that he might have sent Porter on a bad mission, but that happened sometimes, too; he was also a realist.

"Porter, I got your debrief from Liberty. I'm sure it's thorough, but anything you want to add to that?" Barber asked.

"No, sir. That report about covers it."

"Okay, then. On to your travel over, any incidents?" Barber looked to Wall.

"Yes, sir," Collin began, "Carrie can show on the map where that warren was?"

Carrie leaned forward and put a marker on the area, "We'll need to mark that warren off and inform people. I scrubbed it."

Wall detailed the events with the two Ogres and terminators for Barber. "Our concern was that we've never seen small units like that out and about. We've seen large scale assaults, and single infiltrators, but nothing like that." Collin concluded.

Barber rubbed his chin and nodded, "We've been seeing a lot of this lately in this area, something is going on and we need information" then shook his head. "I had to fight to get any scouts back up here. They weren't going to let me have you back, Porter."

Carrie sat back stunned, partly because she was surprised she was the only real scout here and also that he'd fought to get her back here when she thought she wasn't coming back at all when she woke up at Liberty.

Barber continued, "Anyway, Wall, I know you're not a scout, but I asked down there and they said you're good and quiet, and your guys are good and quiet. I see you have a couple of trainees, and that might be troublesome, but we can work around that. We need more scouts. Do you think you can do that?"

Collin didn't hesitate, "Of course, sir." Collin's philosophy was to always say you can do it, and then figure out how to do it.

Barber leaned forward, "I believe in General Connor, but I think a lot of things are happening up in the Canyons. He keeps his own counsel, but I think he's looking in the wrong place. I understand he's like a beacon, and moths like to burn themselves out on him. I already survived the fire, and I want to keep surviving. I don't want to burn myself up, so I'm going to fly my own way. I want to burn Skynet and I think something's up there that's going to bite us in the ass if we don't get up there and find it."

Barber started laying out markers on the map, "I'll give you three days to get settled in here, and then you can start. These are the areas of interest. We aren't going to go in shooting it up, I just want intel- movements, numbers…" Carrie and Collin both nod and listen.

"What do you think about being a scout?" Carrie asked as they navigated the busy stairwell.

"It's an interesting career change," Collin answered, "I was kind of blindsided."

Carrie laughed, "Yeah, and here I thought I was going the other way myself."

They were about to stop at Level Four but Carrie offered, "Let's go to rec, there will be lots of folk there."

Collin raised an eyebrow and chuckled, "Folk?"

Carrie laughed, "People. It's like y'all, get used to it… come on." And she continued in a trot down the stairs.

A wave of sound hit them as they exited the stairwell; the open area was crowded with soldiers sitting around in groups on the floor, as well as some civilians from the lower levels. Collin was almost overwhelmed by the atmosphere, but Carrie grabbed him by the arm and pulled him along. She finally spied Symms and Crow sitting with the trainees and she moved towards them, returning greetings as she went.

"I see y'all have made yourself a home," she grinned at them and their bottle as she sat down cross-legged, making their circle bigger.

Symms laughed, "Your friends are very hospitable," he held the bottle out to her with raised eyebrows.

"Who gave it to you?" She asked curiously taking the bottle and an experimental sip. Sometimes you had to take a few sips to kill your taste buds before you could actually drink it. It seemed humanity would always have its intoxicants, even if they were foul tasting.

"Your blond fella over there," Crow nodded and looked to his left.

Carrie looked in that direction, and spotted who she knew she'd see. Davies smiled at her, she nodded, "That's Davies, he's just a friend." She took a bigger swallow of the bottle and passed it to Collin.

Several people passed and welcomed her back, some she barely recognized. A couple pounded her on the back, bringing winces which she tried to covered as smiles.

"Please pass that bottle back; I'll need some pain killing!" She took a couple large swallows, grimaced, then relinquished the bottle, "People don't know their own strength."

Collin looked concerned, "You OK?"

Carrie laughed, "Yeah, if the terminator couldn't kill me, a few pats on the back won't, just give me a sec, I think someone hit one of the ribs." She brought her knees up and laid her forehead against the top of them and wrapped her arms around her legs and waited for the alcohol to work its magic.

Collin turned to Symms and Crow. "You haven't found any friends yet?" he asked.

Crow answered mockingly, "Symms keeps running them off with his girlish laughter."

"No, it's your constant crying that you want your mother that drives them away!"

"Why don't you just admit your undying love for each other and end your agony?" Carrie spoke from between her arms.

Symms and Crow looked at each other; their mouths open in mock amazement, and cracked up when they realized that maybe Carrie was some fun after all. Collin then realized that maybe he's gotten three of the biggest jokers left on the planet, and he wondered if he'll survive both the war and the recreation room. He decided to risk the hooch, since it couldn't be worse than the jokes, and took a big swig of the bottle and almost choked on the taste. All three adults looked up at him and laughed loudly.

"Mind if I join this party?" Standing over Carrie was Davies.

"Well, you provided refreshments, so it'd be impolite to refuse," Carrie looked up and then made a place for him and he sat close to her. She made introductions around, "This is Paul Davies, he works logistics."

Conversation turned to their new assignment and Crow and Symms seemed eager to get into it.

Davies leaned in and whispered into Carrie's ear, "You like your new Sergeant." Carrie turned to him eyes and cheeks blazing and mouthed "No"

He smiled and laid his hand lightly against her lower back, he spoke quietly close in "Carrie, you are so worked up right now you are ready to jump."

She closed her eyes and breathed in as he ran his hand up her back, she rubbed her temple, hiding her face from everyone but him, "It just been a while, that's all."

"Then let's go" He smiled against her ear. She took a couple of breaths and couldn't help but look over at Collin, who caught her eye. She looked away quickly, then nodded to Davies. He stood quickly and offered a hand up to Carrie.

"I'll see y'all later." She offered as she wiped dust off her pants. As they walked off she couldn't help looking over her shoulder.

Collin watched warily as Carrie made introductions and wondered about her relationship with this guy. She called him a friend, but she would barely even look at him, and Davies was eating her up with his eyes. Then when the whispering started Collin had trouble holding up his end of the conversation with Crow and Symms.

Collin watched Davies hand run up her back and looked away, but then when he looked back Carrie was looking at him. He watched her walk away, and he really didn't like the feeling he got seeing Davies with his hand holding her elbow like that. He really wasn't sure what to think when she looked over her shoulder at him, and she appeared like she felt guilty. This guy really bugged him and Collin tried to tell himself that it was because he was really protective of his team.

"So, what kind of friend is he?" Crow asked.

"The kind that wanted to throw her down right here and ravage her in front of us all." Symms answered.

"Kind of like the Sarge did" Crow added.

"What the hell?" Collin turned on them.

"Damn, Sarge, you were about panting over her." Crow didn't know when to stop.

"Shut the fuck up!" Collin warned, and they knew they'd gone too far.


	7. Chapter 7

Cool Heart

Carrie sat on her pad nibbling some crackers, but they were more like ceiling tiles than what she'd remembered from before the war. She had one of the rare maps spread out in front of her and was trying to show Aral some of the skills of orienteering and map reading. She was using a few as markers to help Aral visualize the scale and to mark locations. As she did this, she was also trying to memorize some of the finer details since they didn't carry maps on missions.

Collin wandered in with Devin, "Map lessons?" he questioned and then swiped a cracker from the paper.

"Hey, that's a learning tool, not a snack!" Carrie laughed.

"Might as well be a tool," he replied as he tried gnawing on it, and he sat down next to them to eye the chart. "You memorize these maps?"

"Some, and some is just intuition and remembering where I've been," she shrugged.

He noticed most of the markers were on spots that Captain Barber had asked them to check out, "You been to these areas before? What are you thinking?"

"It's been a while; this is far out of our normal area. Probably why we hadn't noticed much going on before." Carrie moved a couple of crackers off the map and pointed to a two spots on the map. "It's a long walk, and only two warrens on the way, then after this point, nothing. I think this time around we should just walk the areas to see where the most activity is, then report back to see what the Captain thinks we should concentrate on."

Collin chuckled, "I don't feel like the Sergeant here, more like your puppy."

Carrie looked up and grinned, "Our trainees might make enough messes for us to clean up."

Aral and Devin looked at each other, both feeling their inadequacies. Carrie and Collin looked on the young men with thoughtful expressions. The trainees were going to be the most challenging part of the mission. Could they keep up when it mattered and keep down when it mattered? Would they make a fatal error?

"Why don't you guys go find Symms and Crow?" He wanted to examine his thoughts with Carrie without them feeling like they were under the microscope.

After they were clear he turned to Carrie, "I'm worried about them. Think it's going to be a problem?"

She looked to the ceiling, studying the fluorescent light for a moment, "We'll see. That's kind of why I thought a walk around would be good first. I thought we could leave them, but this would give them good practice. They did OK on the walk here, though they were reluctant to join the fight. Probably were just unsure of themselves."

"They need to work up their endurance. I see we'll be holing up most of the time. I hate sleeping in holes."

"You get used to it, they will, too." Carrie looked wistful, "I like watching the sun." As she turned her head Collin noticed the colors of the bruises on her face were fading.

"Your bruising is going away. What about your endurance?" Collin reached out and almost touched her cheek then remembered she didn't like being touched and retreated.

"I'll be fine." Carrie reassured him, her hand going to her face when she saw him reaching out, though she found herself leaning into his hand. Then when he drew back, she looked away and rubbed at her temple.

"Well, two more days to think about this. What you say we go get something to eat that's not likely to break our teeth?" He swept the crackers off the map and into his hand, and added with a smile, "Unless these are like bricks in your stomach now."

"I'll need something to soften them up, I guess." She grinned.

"You meeting your guy later?" Collin asked offhandedly.

Carrie frowned and answered tiredly, "He's not my guy. I keep telling y'all that."

"He seems to look like he thinks he is," Collin probed.

"Yeah, he might. I'll have to talk to him." she sighed and then added in a matter of fact tone, because it seemed like things needed clearing up, looking at Collin earnestly, "I don't mess around with men that I like, or think that I'll like. It keeps things uncomplicated when feelings aren't involved."

"Have you always been like that? Not liking anybody?" Collin was curious.

Carrie looked away and answered, "When I was a trainee there was someone. He took plasma fire meant for me. I decided then that no one should ever do that, and that I didn't ever want to feel that kind of sadness again. And, I didn't even love him, so what would love hurt like? Rule #3… people will always die on you. Better I don't feel that again, and no one feels that about me."

"You can't control how other people feel." Collin offered.

"Do you grill Symms and Crow about who they're messing around with? What about you? Did you leave a girl behind somewhere?" Carrie retorted mildly.

"Good point, but I don't know that they ever get anyone because they're both so obnoxious," Collin laughed, then added thoughtfully, "No, I've never had anyone close."

"See, maybe I'm just more up front and aware of it." She stood and offered him her hand, "Let's go eat."

Two nights later he team was packed up and Carrie checked Aral's arrangement to make sure he had everything in order. She moved a few things around for him to make things more reachable, pulled on his pack to make it was seated well.

She faced him and smiled, "You ready?" When Aral nodded numbly and tried to smile back, she shook his shoulder. "We're just walking, hopefully nothing exciting will happen," she reassured him, but gave a look to Collin. He was giving a similar pep talk to Devin.

They filed up the stairs and were waved out by the sentry at the last check point. "Have fun, and happy hunting," he wished them as they exited the base and into the maze of tunnels that finally led them out into the dark of night.

They spread out, with Collin leading Devin and Crow and Carrie in charge of Aral and Symms. The team then started their careful walk out of the normal area of operations and into the unknown of the scout area.

The night was overcast with a slivered moon, and that was good on some levels, but made the going slow as they traversed the uneven ground. They made it near the first warren without incident, but were concerned to find track marks from an HK that seemed recent. Collin debated with Carrie on whether the warren was safe.

"We should walk wide around to see if anything's still around, if not the warren is most likely safe." Carrie told him as she and Collin huddled next to a small fallen outbuilding next to a demolished home.

Collin shook his head, "We'll just bypass this one, too risky."

Carrie shrugged, "OK, Sarge."

It became obvious shortly thereafter that it was probably the right decision. As they skirted around where the warren was hidden in an old springhouse, and further into the area when they heard the whining that foretold an approaching aerial HK. They scrambled for cover and were barely hidden before the spotlights lit up the ground around them.

Carrie was jammed in with Aral under a portion of tin roof so close she could feel him shaking. Carrie reached out and physically removed his hand from the trigger of his rifle; he seemed ready to shoot at anything that moved. When he turned to her she just shook her head, then rubbed his shoulder and he seemed to relax.

Then they watched as after the HK flew over it was followed by dozens of T-800s. It was Carrie's turn to start trembling. Her skin itched where she was still healing from the bruises, but she knew that wasn't real. Cold sweat ran down her face, and she bit her lip.

Part of her wanted to open full auto on the phalanx of Terminators and part wanted to crawl deep inside a hole and hide. She realized Aral's nervousness was rubbing off on her and tried to breathe deeply.

Everyone lay as still as possible as they passed, trying to blend in and not attract the glowing red eyes to their positions as the heads scanned left and right in their constant search for human targets. Carrie kept one eye on the army of metal and the other on Aral, a hand on his shoulder, partly to keep him calm and partly to calm her, too. As the last of them filed past Carrie breathed a sigh of relief. It was more stressful to lay there and not shoot them than to risk firing upon them and drawing their attention and being burned up by plasma fire.

The team waited a few more minutes under cover to ensure no flankers were forthcoming. Collin appeared in front of their hiding place and waved them out.

"Well, shit. Guess we were in the wrong place at the wrong time." Collin stated the obvious as they hunkered down together behind a concrete wall of what used to be a gas station. Crow and Symms stood over the trainees a few feet away keeping their eyes peeled for more Skynet surprises.

"Well, maybe good timing, as we can backtrack to where they came from," Carrie observed, taking off her knit cap and pushing wisps of hair back into her hair band; she noticed her hands were still shaking. "They came from somewhere important, or are going somewhere important. I'm betting on came from."

"We have the Captains objectives to keep in mind," Collin reminded her, and reached out to her shaking hands, "A little worked up, Carrie?"

"I couldn't burn off any adrenaline by putting a few holes in some metal," Carrie replied, trying to downplay her earlier response and took back her hand from his. "The Captain would rather us bypass his objectives and get good information, than to overlook something we think might be important."

Collin rubbed his chin and nodded, "OK, I see your point. We'll back track the trail and see where they came from. Then we'll scout the rest of the objectives from there."

Carrie replaced her cap and grinned, "Sounds like a plan."

Skynet has no need for stealth and the path was easy to follow. The team paralleled the track taken for two nights, and slept poorly, covered up during the day. Luckily, they met no more large movements of any forces, though there were several over flights that they took cover from. They knew they were getting close to something of interest as the over flights grew more frequent.

Collin low walked to the crest of a hill, then lay prone with the scope while the team spread out behind him and waited. He waved Carrie up and when she arrived he handed her the scope without a word.

Laid out in the valley below them was a maze of fencing and barbed wire. Milling around like cattle was close to two hundred men, women and children, and patrolling the perimeter were the metal overlords. The chain link prison was connected to a large windowless cinderblock building that was obviously a factory from the machine sounds coming from it.

"It's a fucking work camp," Collin said through clenched teeth, rubbing his eyes.

"But, what's the factory making, and why all the people?" Carrie questioned, scanning with the scope, though she knew she wouldn't get any answer. She knew the anger that Collin was feeling, and the powerlessness to do anything. "It doesn't look like a work camp." She added, shaking her head.

Collin took the scope back and scanned again, "Hell if I know," He growled. "Ok, so we'll dig in, keep watch and see if we can figure out what the deal is, and hope they spill the beans quickly." He then put the scope down and swore again, "God dammit!"

"Yeah," Carrie nodded grimly, and she reached out and squeezed his shoulder.

No one ever liked finding a new work camp, especially attached to a factory. You could attack a factory and demolish it, burn it to the ground. However, liberating a work camp was difficult because often the people were hard to relocate; this one would be next to impossible. In addition to that, if there was an attack on the factory, human losses at the camp would be tremendous, if not total. The effect of morale on the troops is often devastating in knowing that they were the cause of the demise of their fellow men, women and sometimes children.

The team found spots that had overgrown with underbrush under stands of quick growing trees that had filled in well enough for cover. They made blinds from branches and settled in for the wait. They paired the trainees with Symms and Crow close enough for visual cues, and Carrie and Collin stayed together so that they could quickly make decisions together if the need arose.

Carrie lay on her stomach with her chin in her hand and watched bare eyed while Collin kept scanning occasionally with the scope. This task would get long and boring but she was used to it.

"What's the longest you've sat and waited, Carrie?" Collin asked curiously.

"Four nights I counted HKs coming and going through a pass before we set up an ambush with TechCom." Carrie answered, "I hope we don't have to wait that long here. I don't like watching those people down there." She absently started playing with the kitty doll on her rifle.

Collin watched her sadly eyeing the toy, "That reminds you of someone who went to a camp?" He then turned back to scanning the factory and surrounds.

"My little sister Molly, it was hers, and my mama." Carrie responded like it didn't matter and shrugged, "It was a long time ago."

"Both my parents were killed in the camps. It was a long time ago, but every time I blast a Terminator or an HK I do it for them." Collin stated bitterly, looking down at her.

Carrie looked at Collin thoughtfully, "You're right. Me, too."

A short time later Carrie started rolling the toy around in her fingers again while staring at the work camp. Collin reached down and took her hand and gave it a squeeze without taking his eye from the scope. She puzzled with herself for a second over why he did that. Was he comforting her or was he treating her like she did Aral earlier, trying to stop her fiddling? She decided on the latter because she didn't want think about how good it felt when he held her hand.

Just before sunset on the third day Carrie tapped Collin's shoulder to wake him. "Something's happening."

Three Terminators exited the building into the fenced compound and the prisoners pressed to the edges. The chain link bulged in places as if they could press themselves through the small diamonds to be as far removed from the stalking metal guards as possible. The team watched as the Terminators pulled two people each from the crowd and herded them to the gate at the opposite end and pushed them through.

Propped up on her elbows Carrie watched through the scope. She could see confusion on the faces of the two women and four men as they looked from the gate, to the Terminators, then back to the other people who were staring back at them. Then the guards pushed them towards trees opposite the team's position, and from a loudspeaker from the building a computer voice said, "Run."

Carrie sat up higher on her elbows and muttered, "What the hell?"

The six hesitated and were pushed again, and the voice from the building repeated, "Run." One of the men turned and sprinted, a collective gasp came from the fenced prison. One of the women fell and scrambled to get up, and a Terminator shot at her feet. Then the remainder of the group ran away as fast as they could, and they disappeared into the underbrush.

"Holy hell, what is going on?" Collin was dumbfounded. He'd never seen anything like it.

Their attention was drawn back to the building when a low rumbling came from it as a section of the roof started rolling back. As they watched, two machines hovered silently out of the building and hung in the air. There was not the familiar whine of turbines that normally accompanied HKs and Carrie felt a chill run down her spine. Then they silently sped in the direction that the Terminators had sent the prisoners. They accelerated at a pace that shocked her.

Collin had just watched solemnly and added, "It doesn't use a search light, must use IR." Then he winced as he saw a plasma bolt light up the sky and the trees caught fire, he thought he heard a scream.

Carrie lowered the scope and covered her eyes, "Oh, God, Wall. It's a hunt, a test run."

He took the scope from Carrie and observed as five more lights of plasma quickly follow. The new breed of silent aerial HKs returned and lowered themselves into the building and the roof ground back over to cover them up.

"I've seen enough. Let's pack up and get home."

The walk back was quick and silent; everyone was in their own heads about what they'd witnessed. Even as they debriefed with Captain Barber they couldn't cover their horror with a military detachment. The discovery of the new type of HK was news and a messenger would be dispatched immediately to General Connor. Even the atrocity of using humans as prey to test the new machinery didn't seem beyond Skynet, but the witnessing of it was always a shock.

The team retreated to their billet and Carrie threw down her pack and without preamble she tried to lose herself in cleaning her rifle, even though it hadn't been fired. She also ordered Aral to field strip his for practice, and didn't realize she was being so cross until he seemed to lose a small part and she grumbled at him. This was so out of nature from what he'd seen of her that Collin stepped in and laid a hand on her shoulder and she bristled and shook it off.

"Please don't touch me!" Carrie said testily.

Carrie massaged her forehead. She realized she was antsy because Rule #3 had rubbed itself in her face again. She'd relived Molly and her mother being in a camp, and didn't want to allow any affection because that would only lead to hurt. She'd always known that, but she was really feeling it today and she needed to do something to get out of this mood.

Collin stood and ordered, "Carrie, step outside with me," and led her out the door.

He stood in front of her, his arms crossed, "Are you always like this after an op?"

Carrie glared at him, "You can't act like this ended up a standard op. You can't say this didn't bother you."

"Yeah, but I'm not biting everyone's head off." Then Collin leaned in close and quietly said, "Aral is timid enough as it is. I don't need you being a bitch to my puppy, you understand?"

When he saw her hurt expression he quickly added, "I like the Mama Bear and you were doing a good job. And, I'm sorry. I'll try to remember the touching thing. Get Aral squared away then go to Rec or something."

Carrie nodded and marched back into the room. "Let's go wash up now, Aral. Then I'm going to Rec." Carrie announced.

Carrie sat next to Davies with a bottle in between her legs. She took frequent sips while listening to the people talk around her. She couldn't help but frown at the inanity of the conversation of the REMFs1 after what she had just witnessed.

"Hey, hun, maybe you need to slow down." Davies cajoled, rubbing the back of her neck, "Tough few days?"

She tried to shrug off his hand, but he was persistent, she glared at him, "How could you tell?"

"Hey, calm down." He smoothed down her hair and she closed her eyes and sighed and rubbed her face.

She didn't want tenderness right now, she wanted rough and tumble. She needed to burn off some energy and adrenaline. She had always sought out Davies because he was someone she thought wouldn't be the kind to harbor feelings. Today, of all times, she didn't want to deal with that. However, she decided to play nice and maybe she could get what she wanted, and she tried to smile at him.

"That's more like it. Now stop hogging the bottle." He reached for the bottle, and in the process ran his hand down the inside of her thigh. She grinned at him encouragingly, took a big sip and gave him the bottle. That was the kind of touching she wanted.

Davies leaned in and murmured in her ear, "You are so transparent," he stroked her neck with his thumb.

Carrie murmured appreciatively and happened to look up and see Collin walk in. She watched him walk to the team and as he sat. He looked to her and nodded a greeting and she did the same.

Davies turned and looked, "Oh, my competition's here."

Carrie turned back to Davies, "Oh, hush. Don't play jealous. You know I don't mess around with anyone on my team."

"There's always a first time," he said.

She gazed at him for a moment and decided the only way to quiet him was to kiss him, and pulled him to her for a long kiss. This surprised him as she rarely allowed kissing because it was too intimate. She knew she was manipulating him, but was too tired and the week was too trying to for her to take any other tack with him. She'd never felt anything special from kissing anyone, and had always felt it was sloppy ever since her first kiss at fourteen. Her tactic worked and he came away bright eyed.

"So, is it time to go?" She smiled at him and rubbed his knee, he just nodded and stood.

Davies' hand inside Carrie's shirt and the bites on her neck as he pressed her against his pad were doing a good job of distracting her from a bad week. His knee worked its way between her thighs and she made room to push her hips against it. He slipped her pants off and ran his hand up her legs and she shivered. She closed her thighs around his hand and he lay close and kissed her cheek so that his ear was near her mouth. He liked to hear the catch of her breath as his hand and her hips moved together.

Carrie distractedly worked off his belt, pushed down his pants and pulled him to her. She pressed her forehead to his shoulder, her eyes squeezed shut and wrapped her legs tightly around his waist. As Davies rocked against her she felt the tension leaving her. Very shortly thereafter she was gasping, relieved and relaxed.

Davies kissed her neck and stroked her thigh. "You could stay with me today."

She looked at him warily, wiping sweat from her nose. "You know I don't do that."

"You can start." He propped himself up on an elbow, and pushed some hair out of her face, "I… I love you, Carrie."

"Don't say that." Carrie warned, "We talked about that. This is just for fun."

"I love you. You've got to feel something, too." He argued.

She rolled over and pulled on her pants and boots and said over her shoulder, "I feel lust, and I thought we agreed on that." She stood and buttoned her pants. "You don't want to love me, because I'm going to die, probably really soon, and it's going to hurt really bad."

"What? And, you don't think this doesn't hurt really bad?" He spit back at her, as he put on his pants, too.

"I can't see you anymore," was Carrie's only reply and she started to walk out.

Davies grabbed her arm and pleaded, "Wait Carrie, don't!"

Carrie scowled at him and said in a low voice, "Let go. Now."

"No, let's talk about this." He implored.

Carrie had reached the breaking point for the week. She hauled back and punched him in the cheek. She turned, stalked from his billet and went straight to her own. She got undressed, covered herself in her teddy bear blanket and just cried.

Collin sat in Rec and mulled over the previous days and he didn't drink tonight. He watched Symms and Crow drink, but monitored their consumption to make sure they didn't go overboard. He wanted to make sure his team blew off some steam, but didn't hurt themselves or others.

He saw Carrie with Davies when he arrived and she seemed OK at the time. He once again kicked himself over calling her a bitch. He still couldn't believe he'd done that. He watched the way Davies looked at Carrie and he was really curious how Carrie could not see that the man was in love with her, especially after that kiss. Actually, he was curious about how watching Carrie give Davies that kiss made him feel.

When Davies returned without Carrie with and icepack on his cheek and started drinking heavily he was concerned. He ordered Crow and Symms to stop drinking and wait here for him to return and went to find Carrie.

He found her still covered under her blanket and he crouched down and asked her, "Did you hit him?"

"Yes." She replied simply.

"Do you think he's going to report it? Are you OK?"

"No and No."

He sighed, "Is there anything I can do?" He reached out to pat her shoulder then remembered he shouldn't without asking, "Can I touch you?"

"No and," she hesitated, "no."

He heard her start crying and it was hard not to go against her wishes.


	8. Chapter 8

VIII. Icy Memories

_The leaves crunched under Carrie's feet and a bright sun filtered through a thick canopy of leaves. An adolescent puppy tumbled along at her heels as she walked a well beaten trail. She stopped at a large oak tree and wrapped her arms as far around the huge trunk as she could. She sighed happily and the puppy jumped up and put his paws on her legs and whimpered for attention. _

_Carrie unslung the heavy rifle on her back and set it down next to the large tree, then sat down, leaning against the rough bark. The gangly brown and grey dog just eyed her expectantly. She listened to the peaceful sounds of the forest, then gradually they were replaced by the whine of motorcycle engines. _

_She cocked an ear and slowly rose and walked to the top of the hill and looked into the valley. Spread out before her was the motocross rally that many years before had brought her family to California from Tennessee. _

_As she scanned the campground with a practiced soldier's eye she found the battered camper. Her breath caught in her throat and her pulse quickened. She watched as her mother walked to the truck and kissed her father through the window and then he drove away. Five year old Molly jumped up and down in a fit because she wasn't able to go to the city with her brother Chris, and a younger version of herself just sat sulking at the picnic table._

_The puppy at Carrie's feet began to whine and then the air filled with the din of many dogs barking. Carrie spun and retrieved her rifle, and then ran and slid down the hill. In the distance the cotton cloud-dotted blue sky lit up with a flash, then blossomed with a mushroom cloud. As she sprinted pell-mell towards the campground, the buzz of motocross engines became the shriek of HK turbines. _

_The dogs howled._

"_Mama!" She howled, too, as she scrambled down the hill._

Carrie's eyes flew open and something close to a sob escaped from her throat. She turned onto her back, grimaced and pressed her palms to her eyes. It wasn't the worst dream she'd ever had, bad dreams came with the territory, but she hated dreaming about her family. She looked at her watch in the dim light and saw that it was still early in the day, so she would need to try to get back to sleep.

She looked around and saw that she wasn't the only one having a hard day's sleep. Aral was shaking his head and growling, and Devin's forehead was sweaty. However, Symms and Crow seemed to be sleeping like rocks. When she turned to Collin, though, his eyes were open- the Sergeant always taking care of his troops.

She sat up and grabbed her canteen, "Keeping watch?"

"It's been restless for everyone," Collin replied, rolling to a sitting position.

"Crow and Symms seem to be sleeping peacefully," she commented dryly.

"That's because they got a good bit of liquor into themselves before they hit their pads, and I got them there before they could hit anything else." Collin commented, then realized what he said.

Carrie rubbed her forehead with both hands and winced at his choice of words, glancing down at her bruised knuckles. She began to wonder if this was how you started to lose it. She sat there silently for a couple of minutes thinking of the ways she'd seen soldiers finally just go crazy and give up. They'd go berserk and run recklessly into plasma fire or into the tracks of an HK. Sometimes they'd just sit silently in the junkyard until someone, if they were lucky a comrade, came and dragged them away. She thought she was tougher than that; she hoped she was.

Collin had slept lightly all night, listening to the sounds of his squad stirring in their sleep. Often he wondered what they dreamed, but he knew better than to ask about them. His dreams involved too many flashes of light and loud sounds, and he was happy to be quit of them when the other's dreams had made them cry out and wake him.

He woke again as Carrie jerked from whatever phantoms had been haunting her and sat up. He knew better than to try to comfort her; he wouldn't have tried that with any of the others in the squad, and wondered why he considered it now. He just tried conversation, but took the wrong path and kicked himself mentally. He watched the gears turn in her head, over what, he wasn't sure. She wordlessly sipped from her canteen for a while and lay back down, and eventually he did the same.

"Orders are we scout the remaining areas of interest," Collin reported as he joined the squad in rec. He lowered himself between Crow and Aral and started in on the rice and something brown they'd been given for breakfast.

Symms grumbled quietly, "So do you know if anything's going to be done about that factory?"

"No, and he wouldn't talk about it, so we won't either," Collin ordered, pointedly looking at everyone, especially at Crow and Symms. "You guys go start squaring away your gear, we leave tomorrow night."

Carrie watched them leave, picked a piece of something inedible out of her food, and finishing up her plate. When they were out of ear shot she remarked lazily, "I don't think Aral and Devin would do much talking about anything anyway."

"Yeah, kids these days don't do much talking, and what they do is so low you barely hear them. Years of hushing to keep their tone down so that they aren't overheard, it's almost eerie watching kids play in the tunnels." He frowned to himself, washing down some of the grainy food with some tinny water from his canteen.

"Makes them quiet soldiers," she offered grimly, and Collin grunted in agreement. She

turned to face him, "So, what's the plan?"

"I told you the plan. Same as before, scout the areas we missed, report." He replied evenly, meeting her eyes.

"Sure, that's what the captain said." Carrie watched him carefully, leaving that thought unfinished. He blinked and she knew he wasn't telling her everything. She picked up her plate and stood. "So, if that's the plan, are there any special supplies I need to lay in before we go?"

He looked away, "No, I'll pick up anything extra we might need."

"Right," she reluctantly accepted his words, "Ok, then. I'll go start squaring away my gear as well." She didn't wait for a reply and headed for the back stairs, stopping only to rinse off her plate. She glanced back to Wall with another puzzled look. He sat as if in deep thought, with a frown creasing his face.

_Corporal Reynolds handed over to her a battered M16 and started to explain the fundamentals of weaponry. However, he looked at her curiously as she removed the magazine and checked the chamber. "You seem to know a little about this."_

_Her fifteen year old hands were smaller and not as calloused as they took apart the weapon. She answered, "My father had an AR-15. He told me I couldn't fire it until I could take it apart and put it back together. I learned how at eleven."_

_Reynolds grunted his approval, "So I imagine you know how to shoot it, then?"_

_Carrie just laughed and nodded._

_The corporal cautioned, "Don't get cocky. You may know how to shoot it, but when something's shooting back at you it's not like at the range."_

_Carrie looked contrite and again just nodded. It still could not douse her enthusiasm to get out there and do her own shooting. It was all she had thought about for the last three years since her mother and Molly were taken. She spied the D-ring on her rifle's sling and without a second thought opened up the key ring that had slipped out of Molly's hand during the struggle. She closed it on the D-Ring and vowed to think of Molly whenever she destroyed a battle unit with it._

Carrie turned the corner to enter their section of the sleeping quarters and stopped abruptly- sitting on her pad was an XM500 .50 caliber rifle. She looked to Crow who was now checking out a large plasma rifle.

She forced a smile and tried to cover the concern she felt, "Has Santa been here?" She began to realize what Wall was up to, but she wasn't sure exactly what was going on. She didn't like the questions that were popping into her head being unanswered and never liked questions going into a mission.

Crow grunted a smile, "I'd have preferred chocolate."

Carrie did chuckle at that and strode to her pad. She squatted down next to it and examined her new weapon. It had obviously seen better days, as had all the weapons in every armory, but looked to be in good shape. She did stop herself from starting to take it apart and check it. Instead, she turned to see how the others were doing with their gear.

She sat on her heels between the trainee's pallets, and examined what they had laid out on their pads. She took a few unnecessary items out of Aral's piles, and then did the same for Devin's. She thought they might need some room for them to carry some extra items for the squad if what she was thinking Collin was preparing for was right. She was also going to have to have more room for the large rounds for her rifle.

"OK, pack it up," she ordered them and then watched them pack it properly. She only had to correct Devin once, and then it was done. The puppies were training up pretty well.

Carrie returned to rifle, hefted it off her pad and settled herself on the foam next to it. She turned to Aral, "Come over here with me, and I'll show you about this rifle."

She took the rifle apart and examined the parts for wear, lecturing Aral on the importance of checking a weapon. She was showing him how to reassemble the weapon and attaching the upper receiver to the lower when Collin returned.

Collin took his pack and placed several detonators and C4 into it. Carrie caught his eye and gave him a questioning look. He just shook his head and turned and walked out. She jumped up and followed him around the corner.

"Wall, wait!" She caught up to him in front of the stairs and he turned to her, "Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

He crossed his arms and responded, "I've already told you."

She frowned at him, wondering why he was being so cagey, and stepped in close to add in a low tone. "It's seems to me that I'm not being told everything. I'm not comfortable going into a mission without clear objectives."

Collin leaned in, placed his hand on her shoulder and said quietly and closely in her ear, "Trust me. I promise I'll tell you what you need to know when you need to know."

She pulled back and looked at him nonplussed, her only reply a quick nod. His hand on her shoulder and his cheek up against hers had made her heart race, and she was almost positive she'd felt his thumb caress her neck when he let her go.

He then took her hand and pressed something into it. "I turned in your M16." She uncoiled her fingers and found Molly's key chain. He turned and entered the stairwell, taking two steps at a time up the stairs. She watched after him, rubbing her forehead.

_She ran, stumbling on the concrete rubble, trying to drag five year old Molly behind her. Carrie could barely see the tattered brown sweater as her mother tried to lead them to a safe place. Carrie fell to her knees and stifled a cry. She looked down at the knobby, twelve year old shins that now bled from new scratches that would scab like the old ones. She then painfully pulled herself up and tugged Molly along. _

_Her mother gestured frantically towards a hole in some rubble. Carrie quickly darted into the darkness, and turned to grab Molly's hand. She pulled hurriedly as mother's scream filled the tunnel, and then Molly cried out. Carrie felt a tug of war with her baby sister and gripped her hand more tightly. Hot tears ran down her face and her teeth ground as the little hand slipped from hers. She wanted to wail, but kept quiet, as she came away with something in her hand- a little red and white cat toy on a key ring that Molly had been carrying since Judgment Day. Carrie held herself and rocked, holding the figure in a grip so tight that it bruised her hand._

"Did I do it again?" Carrie asked as she was gently shaken awake. She was aware that her hand was on her rifle and was being held down tightly in Collin's grip. He let her go, and she was relieved to find her hand had not reached for the trigger, but rather was wrapped tightly around Molly's toy.

Collin shook his head, "No, but I didn't want to startle you when I woke you. It's your watch."

They were on their third day of the scouting mission, and were spending the day in the last warren on their route. It would be sleeping out in the open, holed up, for the rest of the time they spent on this operation. Carrie followed him out of the small, dark room dug into the hill, and he led her to the sparse stand of trees where they had set up watch. She set down her rifle on its bipod, and hunkered down with it. She was surprised when he also sat down with her.

She gave him an inquiring look and finally spoke when he didn't say anything for several minutes, "People go off mission all the time. Are you trying to find a way to finally tell me what the plan is? And, how much trouble we might be in when we complete it?"

"How many times did your team go off mission? You never seemed surprised at all." Collin looked at the horizon, a troubled expression on his face.

"You know that I have rules, and probably figured out that I follow rules, but I didn't lead the team. Bradley always countered my arguments by saying rules are made to be broken." She rubbed her forehead, joining him in examining the view. "He believed that mission parameters were vague guidelines. Sometimes he went off the cuff and didn't plan, but it usually worked. Captain Barber didn't seem to mind that much, because he got results. However, that's what eventually got him, everyone else and nearly me killed." She turned to him with an impassive look on her face. "You act like you have a plan, so hopefully we won't end up that way, too."

"No plan survives contact with the enemy." He grimaced and rubbed his eyes, "I'm not going to let those people be burned up one at a time." Carrie could only nod in agreement. Collin turned to her and held her eyes as he continued, "We'll do Captain Barber's mission, but we'll take a detour on the way home. And, if we run into any other horror show like we did last time, we take it out. I'm not going to walk away from anything like that ever again."

Carrie smiled a little and reached over and squeezed his arm, "Good. Sounds like a plan."


	9. Chapter 9

IX. Cold Realizations

She had felt a better sense of purpose as she and Collin sat watch on the third night after he'd finally confessed to her his plan to take out the factory they'd observed on the previous mission. They both kept their eyes and ears alert for the enemy as they quietly formulated several options for approach and attack. Finally satisfied, and their watch over, the sun setting at their backs, they prepared to head out for the night.

Two more days east and over flights of aerial HKs began to get more frequent, and the terrain more rocky and barren. Cover was getting hard to find, but they never strayed far from it. They only prayed that none of the silent HKs they'd observed were working in the area; at least they got some warning of turbine noise if it were the run of the mill HKs.

They sat at the foot of a cliff in a ravine and sipped at half full canteens and preparing to ascend a troubling trail up to a ridgeline. Crow took point, followed by Symms, then Aral and Devin, and brought up by Carrie and Collin. They spread out thin on the narrow trail and proceeded up as quickly as possible. Rocks tumbled down from the rubble topped trail as the trainees travelled over it, and Carrie cursed silently to herself, scanning what she could over the dark terrain.

She later found it ironic she was cursing them not watching their footing when she felt the trail crumble beneath her and was at first weightless, then began the fall. Her body slammed against the wall and she felt a great jerk at her head and hair, her rifle began to slip off her shoulder and she caught it with her elbow. She grabbed at the wrist that held her by her hair, trying to assist with her feet and Collin hauled her up onto the thin ledge.

She was pulled between his sprawled legs, and she leaned back against him, trying to catch her breath, and pressed at a tender, bleeding scrape on her right cheek. "You can let go of my hair now, I think," she counseled.

"I am trying," Collin chuckled back, as he slowly opened his hand from it's death grip. He held it out in front of them, and Carrie picked the clump of hair out of his fingers. "And, you couldn't let go of that rifle?"

"No, I couldn't," and she turned her face to him and laughed. He reached up and gently probed her injured cheek; it was almost a caress, both their faces turned serious. Carrie cleared her throat and looked away as Devin appeared on the other side of the broken trail.

Collin turned and looked up and around, "We can't make it past this point. Tell Symms and Crow to work their way up and send down ropes for us to climb." Devin just nodded and turned.

Collin just looked up from his footing as the ground disappeared from underneath Carrie's feet. He dashed forward and slid on his chest, fearing the worst as her head disappeared before he reached her. He blindly grabbed into the break in the trail and snatched the first thing in his fingers and felt the strands of her hair tangle in his grip and then the pull as they held fast. He dragged her up and she sagged in relief against him. He found his hand locked in her hair and laughed as he tried to release his hold. As much as he'd like to have his fingers in her hair, this was not as he'd pictured it.

When she turned to him after plucking the stray strands out of his hand, her laugh brightening her face he once again felt that undeniable urge to touch her. His fingertips lightly brushed the abrasion on her cheekbone, saw her face change and her eyes shift to his lips. Collin sobered as she turned away at Devin's approach and gave the order for them to proceed and lower ropes for their ascent.

As Devin retreated back up the trail Carrie commented quietly, "We're sitting ducks up here if anything comes along." She craned her neck to look up the trail and the switchback, and leaned forward and took off her pack. They were in the only place wide enough to sit, and she had to stay in Collin's straddled legs. "How long do you think it will take them?"

"Maybe forty-five minutes or an hour. Let's hope nothing shows up in that time." He leaned back against the ravine wall, his pack cushioning him against the hard surface. Carrie felt drained after the adrenaline rush of her fall and leaned back against him, apathetic to the intimacy of the position. Collin resisted the urge to wrap his arms around her waist and instead laid his hands upon his thighs. "Can you fire your rifle from this position?"

"I can fire prone at ground units if they come from here and here. Aerials, too." she replied, pointing with both hands and scanning the area. She looked down at his hand and picked another couple of strands out of his fingers. "Nowhere to rest it for any other angle, and I'm not accurate enough if I shoulder fire it to hit an aerial HK to take it down if they come from any other line of sight."

"Then let's hope for the best, plan for the worst," he responded with a nod, also keeping an eye in the distance.

Carrie was rigged and about two-thirds the way up the side of the ravine when a familiar whine filled the air. She pushed away from the wall with her legs and turned for a view of the night sky and quickly found the source. The spotlight was scanning north of them and was making a slow sweep along a turn of the ravine. She doubled her efforts and also felt Symms and Crow begin to pull on the rope to hurry her climb. As she crested the rocky edge she quickly began unhitching herself and unslinging her rifle, never taking her eye off the aerial HK.

Then she looked into the valley and her heart hammered in her throat. "Hurry, get him up here, now!" she ordered. She saw coming into the turn of the ravine two Ogre HKs and at least half a dozen battle units. Her only saving grace was that the moon hadn't risen yet and they were not standing out in silhouette like sore thumbs.

She decided to attempt to go unnoticed and not take out the aerial HK unless things got desperate and it spotted them. She set Devin and Aral up in positions, and then found a spot where she could easily take shots at both the aerial HK and the units coming into the ravine. She pulled down the bipod legs on her rifle and lay down in a prone position and waited, biting a thumb nail. She had to restrain herself from constantly checking the progress of Wall's ascent.

She believed he was nearing the top and was gaining a sense of relief when a plasma bolt pierced the air and Symms and Crow fell back, the burning end of their rope slithering up the cliff's edge. Carrie gasped and felt her something deep inside her chest hurt, but she gritted her teeth.

The aerial HK turned and headed straight for their position. She needed it take it out first so that its spotlight didn't pinpoint their position for its plasma rifles and the others below. She put her eye to the scope, wincing as her injured cheek rested against the butt. She had to wipe a tear away from her eye as her vision blurred and she told herself it was from jarring the minor injury. She took aim and let out a ragged breath and quickly fired the three shots that usually took out the hydraulics on most aerial HKs. She was successful, and the HK faltered and fell into the ravine with an anti-climatic thud.

That, however, did not stop the plasma fire from the units below, which peppered the hillside. For the most part they could probably get away, but Carrie still took aim and fired at them anyway, occasionally wiping her watering eyes clear, taking out three of the endos. She was stopped by a shake on her shoulder and she quickly rolled over and was greeted by an urgent look on Collin's face.

"Carrie, let's get out of here." He ordered.

"How…?" she couldn't finish the sentence, but it didn't matter. She just grabbed his elbow and gave it a squeeze, grinning from ear to ear. "Sounds like a plan." She picked up her weapon, folding up her bipod legs and quickly followed the others away from the area.

Collin watched Carrie climb up the cliff and tried not to notice how the ropes around her thighs made her backside very appealing. He shook his head and tried not to think about how many things he found appealing about his corporal. His thoughts were interrupted by the unmistakable sound of the aerial HK probing the ravine floor with its spotlight. He looked up to see Carrie quicken her pace and a crawl over the edge. His head turned as he noticed her attention move to the entrance of the gap and her frantic removal of the gear.

Collin was climbing as fast as he could, sometimes going hand over hand, sometimes being hauled up by Symms and Crowe. He was within a few feet of the edge, and as luck had it, had a foothold when the plasma bolt hit over his head, severing the rope. He grabbed for a handhold and felt a couple of fingernails rip from their beds, but it held. He heard Carrie's rifle start firing, as well as plasma bolts hitting very close to him. He ignored the pain in his hands and continued is climb until he was in reach of Symms and Crowe's helping hands and astounded faces.

They gathered up the ropes and he ordered Symms, Crowe and the trainees to move on. Carrie had continued to fire, oblivious to the goings on around her. He climbed to her position and shook her shoulder, as she rolled over he saw the look of confused relief on her tear streaked face. If it weren't so urgent that they vacate, he might have mused over the meaning of those tears and the smile on her face. Instead, he just grinned back at her as she hurried to leave.

Their only line of advance was to the north and down into the valley on the other side of the ridge they'd just climbed. The enemy units could not follow them up the broken trail, but they would relentlessly pursue them in any other direction, and send many other aerial HKs to search the area now that it was known Resistance fighters were in the immediate area.

Their worries were abated slightly as more tree cover became available in the valley as they quickly passed through. Several times they heard the HKs fly over and the spotlight dapple the ground as it showed through the leaves of the trees they huddled under. They continued running through the night, and well into the day.

The team's energy was lagging and they finally felt they'd put enough distance between themselves and the last sign of pursuit that they could take a rest. They came across a small farmstead and decided this was a good place to stop. However, instead of taking shelter in the buildings themselves, they set up spaced out spots in the tree line above the farm. Skynet would most likely believe that the humans would be seek cover over their heads and search there, giving them advance warning.

As Carrie sagged against her pack next to a large oak tree, her muscles rubbery with fatigue, she was glad she didn't have first watch. She was drifting off when Aral spoke up beside her.

"Carrie, I was scared back there." He confessed,

"That's normal, everyone gets scared sometimes," she replied without opening her eyes.

"I mean, you scared me. The look on your face when you were shooting them, when you were crying when you thought Sarge was dead." Carrie turned to face him, about to protest that she wasn't crying, he continued, "And, you and Sarge are the best soldiers, and if he could die so easily and you can look like that, then things must be bad."

Carrie sighed and rolled back into a comfortable position and found Collin's eyes and held them, "Rule number three, everybody dies, but luckily not today. And, no matter what you feel, you always have to do your job. "

"But, you…" Aral started to protest.

"I had to take out that aerial or we'd all have been at risk. Go to sleep Aral, we'll have watch soon enough." She closed her eyes and tried not to think about what she was feeling when she kept firing when she should have been retreating, and was quickly asleep.


	10. Chapter 10

X. Chilling Situation

The bark of the dried out pine bit into Carrie's arm as she wrapped her arm around it to brace her binoculars. She looked down into the long river valley and smiled grimly at her view. A large, flat building sat at the end of the valley, dwarfed by the large hydroelectric dam that towered above it. She panned around the bottom of the valley floor, then along the ridgeline and counted seven Hunter Killers, their spotlights roaming along the ridgeline and the river bottom. She caught the gleam of silver of several patrols in the hills as well.

She pocketed the field glasses into her jacket and slowly made the descent to the ground, sliding down the last few feet. She met Wall at the foot of the tree, sitting on her heels and leaning close to the trunk, she pointed to the sky silently as one of the HKs made its way over their heads. Its spotlight barely penetrated the tight canopy above, but they stayed silent until the dappled light left the area.

"It's like we thought," Carrie started. "It had to be close with all this activity. There's a dam at the north-west end of the valley. And, some sort of Skynet facility sitting right at the bottom of it."

"What about getting closer? To figure out what type of facility." Wall looked over his shoulder, spying an HK hovering over the far ridge.

"If we stick up on the hills, we might get closer, but I don't know that we can tell what's going on inside. We can at least get some numbers for the Captain, and see what we're up against here." She then added, "And, he'll be interested. That dam was busted according to the last report. So, Skynet's been busy. The Captain was right, there's lots of activity that's not being noted up here."

"Did you see any Ogres? Foot patrols? We can follow some of the game trials around the hillsides." Collin scratched at the stubble on his jaw.

"They're out there, but the moon's bright. They'll be easy to spot." Carrie agreed, "The Ogres will have to stick to the river bottom; we don't want to be there anyway. Looks like when the dam burst it tore out a good part of the tree cover. But, I saw a couple of groups on the far side, so I'd figure there'd be the same this side as well."

"Alright," Collin rocked on his heels, starting to stand, "Sounds like a plan." Carrie grinned at his use of her familiar phrase and took the hand he offered to pull her up.

The game trail was thin, but easy to follow as it meandered up and down the hill. Their footsteps were muffled by a thick carpet of pine needles, but sometimes Carrie winced if they had to cross the underbrush to keep out of open areas. The trainees still needed a lot of practice to move silently in the bushes.

"Hell," She thought, "Even Symms and Crowe are making more noise than a cow in a corn field." They were used to walking on rubble and hiding in the concrete junkyards, not in the woods. She had grown up in the pine forests of rural Tennessee; her father had taught her to hunt deer. He never knew how well his training had benefitted her.

They were back on the trail after cutting back up through the trees after the previous one had skirted too close to the thinning edge near the river. She breathed a little easier as their noise quieted and they made quicker progress. They had avoided only one patrol, lying low and silent under the ferns and prickly bushes.

She had carefully watched Aral with one eye as the machines had passed close. She was beginning to feel deep concern for him, as he shivered like a rabbit whenever metal was close. Trainees didn't show their true colors until under fire, but she wasn't sure if he were ready for it. Not all of them were, and they ended up doing base work. More likely they ended up dead.

Wall was point man as they tread along an even path. Carrie was preparing to admonish the trainees for bunching up when the pine covered forest to both sides of the trail sprang up; ten rifles were trained on them in an instant. Carrie's Desert Eagle was in her hand, and she held the heavy pistol steadily at the target closest to her. Confusion emanated from the trainees, but everyone was lucky they had not fired in panic.

"Drop your weapons and identify" One of the dark figures ordered.

Wall's rifle remained trained on the man who'd barked at him. His calm, steady voice replied, "We might ask the same of you."

Carrie's eyes scanned the men in front of her carefully. She sensed a bit of relief that they were men and not machines, however that did not necessarily mean that they were comrades. There were elements out in the world that eschewed the military and its confines; preferring to live off the land, or more often, on people who lived off the land. They sometimes called themselves Freeholders, or Free Men, and often did just as much damage to the world as Skynet did. They could be less human to their fellow survivors than the machines were.

These men seemed much more precise and better armed than most that she had come in contact with. But, many of the Freeholders were people who'd given up on the military; often secreting away with stores meant for their brothers in arms.

The standoff lasted only a moment more before the man answered, "1st Infantry, under John Connor," Then he added sarcastically, "You do know who he is, right?"

Carrie looked to Wall, still distrustful, however he slowly lowered his weapon, and she followed, holstering her firearm.

"40th Infantry, out of Omaha base." He finally relinquished their identity, but giving up no more than he had to.

In return, the men of the 1st Division lowered their rifles, but still held them at ready, and stepped out of the brush. Carrie couldn't help but notice how they eyed the small team with unhidden suspicion, as well as a bit of disdain.

"Barber?" The unnamed leader of the group sniffed, "It figures. Come with us to base, we'll check your credentials there." He ordered and turned to walk down the trail.

Collin bristled at his tone and his demeanor, "Base? Here?" He asked incredulously, "You're just sitting in a base within walking distance of Skynet?"

"Shut up and follow, unless you'd rather be left here with a hole in your head." The man replied coldly.

Wall turned and motioned them to follow. He found Carrie's frowning and concerned face, and felt the same unease she was surely experiencing. They followed reluctantly, flanked on either side by menacing men. Carrie could not make out details, but there was something strange about their uniform appearance, and the way they moved with precision. She'd seen well trained people, but the guerilla nature of the war against Skynet didn't foster such regimentation.

Wall began to realize that they must have been right upon the base entrance, and that he would never have found it had he not been led there. He had expected a small warren, possibly a bunker, but they found as they entered the well concealed hatch that they'd entered a large, fully functioning and well manned base, complete with a command center.

So much was unclear about the situation, but he felt slightly appeased that they'd left behind a majority of their escort at the hatch entrance. There was something that tickled the back of his mind; something very wrong about those men. Maybe it was the arrogance they seemed to display, or was it the apparent lack of some quality that made them appear arrogant? Arrogance he could understand, and the man who led them had that in spades.

At least they now had his name, Lieutenant Tully, and he had theirs as they recited names and ID numbers to the sentry, who duly wrote them down. A smug smile played across the soldier's face as he led them past the sentry at the hatch and into the base armory.

"Turn over your weapons here," Tully ordered. Knowing they would protest, he continued, "You can keep your sidearms," he turned to Carrie, "but there's no need for that cannon in here."

Collin could not argue as he followed the order, and motioned everyone else to follow suit. He certainly felt apprehension as they were ordered to relinquish their rifles at the armory. However, there was no argument to be made that they required rifles and grenade launchers in the facility; at least they were keeping their pistols. It also assured him that they weren't to be taken into confinement.

As Carrie placed her rifle up on the counter, Tully stepped in close, a bit too close she felt.

"You like big guns?" He leaned into her as if he were sharing a private joke, his gaze going from her rifle, to the Desert Eagle on her thigh, then his eyes travelled up her body. Carrie straightened and tried to step away, but the counter blocked her in.

"I find they're most effective," She replied stiffly, her eyes were steely as they met the gaze that finally reached her face.

"You should show me how effective you are with weapons," His tone expressing more than a desire to see her marksmanship, either unaware, or uncaring at Carrie's cool response.

Her face grew red and her jaw clenched, but before she could form a retaliation inappropriate towards an officer, Collin placed his hand on her elbow and pulled her away.

"Ah," Tully smirked, giving Collin's grasp on Carrie's arm a knowing look, "I see." He turned without further comment, forestalling any denial and ignoring the glare from Collin's narrowed eyes and Carrie's tight lips.

As Collin released Carrie's arm and turned to follow Tully out the door he caught Symms and Crowe amused eyes. He gave them a withering glance as Symms passed by him grinning from ear to ear.

"Don't like competition, do you, Sarge?" Symms quipped in a stage whisper.

"Move out!" Collin spat between clenched teeth, and gave a Carrie an apologetic glance. Carrie met his gaze, her mouth opening and closing, unsure of what to say. She rubbed her creased forehead as she went around him out the door.

He felt a sense of dislocation as they were led down the wide, well lit tunnel. Questions turned in his mind about the base, and its personnel that he wasn't sure he answered. Carrie strode at his side with the same look of wariness as she peered into the intersecting tunnels they passed.

Their bafflement continued to grow as soldiers passed by. Often the team's curious glances were returned with impassive faces, if they were returned at all. Carrie had never been at a base where a new face wasn't at least met with some inquisitiveness.

They were led deep into the hillside, where they were finally stopped in front of a hatch. Collin froze at the entrance, beginning to worry again that they had actually been led to a brig; however he found the door led into what appeared to be an empty mess hall.

Unused tables and chairs stacked against the wall gave Collin an idea of what the contingent presence could be. He estimated up to four hundred troops could be seated, and based on what he'd seen of the size of the facility, it could probably house a few times that. However, only two tables appeared to be in use, even though he knew they'd passed many more soldiers on their way.

"Just stow your packs here." He gestured towards a wall, "Waldo here will keep you company." Waldo stood so still against the wall that the team was almost startled when he was mentioned. He turned an impassive gaze towards them, but did not acknowledge them or speak.

Collin threw his pack down next to the immobile soldier, then turned and took a seat placing a table between them. He felt some unknown threat coming from the man that he couldn't place his finger upon. Carrie settled herself next to him, giving Waldo the same perplexing inspection.

Carrie felt Aral slide into the chair next to her, and then shifted his seat as close as he could get to her. She looked over to him and inwardly shook her head, sighing softly. His skinny body seemed to tremble, and his eyes were so big that she pictured him as a nervous whippet puppy.

Tully let them arrange themselves. It wasn't until then that it dawned on Carrie that he was the only one who'd said a word to them, and that regarded them with any kind of interest. He seemed slightly amused at their guarded expressions, like he was enjoying a joke. He rested his hands on the table, leaning over a bit.

"Alright, I'm off to see the head honcho, we'll see what she says to do with you. Fair warning… she's a cold bitch. Cold as metal." He turned to look over his shoulder. "Like Waldo, there." The team's entire attention focused on Waldo, his head turned and his eyes flashed red.

"Metal!" Collin's voice filled the room.


	11. Chapter 11

XI. Strong Confrontations

* * *

><p>The table flew up in front of Carrie's face as Collin's cry rang through the room. Icy fear fought with burning rage as she tumbled back in her chair, her hand seeking her pistol. The flash of red eyes had flung Carrie's mind back to the other time an endo had towered over her, and she fumed at the futility of using a handgun, no matter how powerful, against an infiltrator. Even so, she brought up her weapon in both hands, the heavy firearm growing lighter in her grip as she emptied the full magazine into the unit.<p>

She lay on the floor, her empty sidearm still gripped tightly in her hands, as if it could protect her. As quiet finally settled over the room, her hearing muffled from the damage of their gunfire, she sensed, rather than heard, Collin's heavy breaths, and an amused chuckle coming from behind the table.

Her focus finally shifted beyond the blackened steel of her gun, past the haze of gunpowder, and to the hulk still standing at the wall. It had not moved an inch, even in the hail of bullets, but its organic façade was marred by gashes and holes.

"John Connor is not going to be happy you messed up one of his toys." Tully rose up from the other side of the overturned table, with a grin that infuriated Carrie.

Carrie pulled herself up from the floor, her face a mix of indignant outrage and embarrassment. Her teeth gnashed that someone would find amusement in taunting his fellow soldiers over something as real and grim as facing an infiltrator in close quarters. She stalked to Tully and stood braced in front of him, just shy of pulling her arm back for a swing.

"You son of a bitch!" Collin's gruff voice proclaimed. He kicked a chair that had entangled his feet and pushed past the table, stepping in front of Carrie.

"Really. I do love the way you outer base people over react." The lieutenant brushed himself off, still laughing.

"Joke? This is fun for you guys?" Collin stood in impotent rage, his hands thrown out towards the damage done. Overcome, he grabbed Tully by the collar.

"Tut tut tut," Tully hung from Collin's grip, "Let's not add assault on an officer to a charge of destruction of equipment."

"Wall, don't" Carrie urged.

She had stood shell shocked at Collin's uncharacteristic outburst. It had replaced the vengeful wrath she'd felt. Now concern filled her; she did not relish the idea of him being stuck in confinement in this underground circus. She stepped up, her arm coming between the two men across Wall's body, resting her hand on his far shoulder. She leaned gently on Collin to push them apart.

"He's not worth it." Carrie spoke through clenched teeth, looking over her shoulder to make sure Tully saw the glare in her eyes. Collin gave one final pull on Tully's collar, and with a disdainful look quickly released him. Carrie tugged on Wall's shoulder and they turned away from the lieutenant and surveyed the damage to the room.

Tully backed away, grinning and unfazed by the scene he had caused, "Clean up your mess, soldiers. Waldo seems to think he's above such duties."

"Yes, sir." Carrie replied with a crisp salute. Her jaw muscles twitched as if daring him with her silent insubordination.

* * *

><p>Collin turned his back on the still closing hatch, but was still wary of the metal lurking against the wall, and he kept it within his line of sight. His eyes scanned the room, and shaking his head he went to the overturned table and put it right.<p>

"Alright, let's police these casings." He grumbled, finally taking in the rest of his team.

"What the fuck just happened, Sarge?" Symms shook his head as if to clear it of the confusion, or maybe to try to clear the ringing in his ears.

"Hell if I know…" Collin replied, picking up a chair, shell casings made plinking sounds as he shook them off.

"I don't like this place," Crow replied nervously. Even the joker in him could not find any amusement in the prank that had just been played on them.

Collin silently nodded in agreement, and then pointedly gestured at the scattered copper that needed to be collected. He grimaced as well at the waste of good ammunition, especially when his foot landed on one, crushing it. He rued the fact that that was one that wouldn't be reloaded to be used against a real threat.

As the others started to bend down and pick up the remains of the ammunition Carrie and Collin had wasted, he finally turned to find Carrie crouched in front of Aral with a concerned look on her face.

* * *

><p>Carrie had watched the hatch close, feeling like throwing a chair after it. As she turned, she caught the eye of the machine and inwardly cringed. When she glimpsed the metal gleaming from the damage of its artificial skin, and thought of herself lying on the floor with her weapon in her hand, she recalled the memory of being battered and beaten by another of its kin. She forced herself to turn her back on it and saw Aral still seated in the chair as if he had not moved an inch during the whole ordeal.<p>

"Aral, you heard Wall…" She lectured the trainee as she walked to him, careful not to tread on casings sprinkling the floor.

Staring straight ahead, Aral did not respond even as Carrie crouched down in front of him. Her face softened in concern and she reached up to take him lightly by the shoulder and give him a small shake. He remained stiff, but his eyes blinked and came into focus. Carrie sighed and rubbed her forehead; she knew for sure that he would never become a soldier, and even wondered if he could make it back to Omaha.

"It's not a threat; it was just a terrible prank…" She almost felt as if she were lying to him, as she still felt threatened by the infiltrator that stood behind her.

"It would have killed us," Aral replied woodenly, "Like they always do." His head nodded, but now his gaze was riveted over Carrie's shoulder on the hulking machine.

Carrie was going to protest, however Collin appeared at her side, sitting down on his heels.

"It's not going to kill us," Collin responded a bit gruffly, but not unkindly, "If it was, we wouldn't be sitting here. You'll have plenty chance to take out ones who might, but for now, you'll pick up litter." He pointed to the surrounding floor.

To Carrie's surprise, Aral stood, still with a vacant look on his face and started to pick up. She swiveled, facing Collin with a perplexed look upon her face.

"Guess that worked…" Shaking her head though, she sighed, "but, I don't think he's going make it."

"Sometimes the Papa Bear approach works better than the Mama Bear." He shrugged and grinned.

"Wall…" Carrie added grimly, "He wet himself."

"Don't tell me you never did." The sergeant smiled crookedly and clapped her on the shoulder. Running his hand down her back, he stood and started picking up chairs and setting them right.

* * *

><p>The hatch swung open and all eyes in the room, including the metal's, swiveled to view the person stepping through the hatch. Carrie was relieved to see the uniform of a higher ranking officer, as she was unsure she would be able to keep her attitude in check if Tully were returning. However, she could not hold back a sniff at the fresh, pristine uniform, and the perfectly combed dark hair, of the woman who entered the mess hall, and she inwardly rolled her eyes.<p>

Lieutenant Colonel Marion Jenner looked down her nose at them as they stood and saluted. Carrie couldn't say it was a crisp salute, and probably full of contempt, however it was a salute none the less. The colonel sat opposite them at the table; Carrie felt as if there was a huge wall between them, and she was fine with that. She had never been able to identify with the ones who sat back, safely in comfort, resided in bases as secure and clean as this one, while the soldiers wore threadbare hand me downs, and lived in dank, dirty tunnels.

The whole team stood, and the colonel gave no indication that they were allowed to sit. This also ate at Carrie's demeanor; this woman was pulling a power play when none was necessary. However, Carrie stood at a semblance of rest as the woman began to lecture them, trying to keep her face passive.

"It seems your Captain Barber has either inadvertently gotten you into a mess, or maybe he blatantly disobeyed orders to stay clear of this area," the officer began, opening a folder and spreading out papers in front of her on the table, "He seems to have a knack for sticking his nose where it doesn't belong."

"This is a top secret facility, and he had you traipsing all over, probably bringing Skynet's awareness to our operations." She folded her arms over the papers, "We can't expect you lower ranks to understand everything that goes on behind the scenes."

Carrie shifted on her feet, her jaw clenched. She felt the tension coming from Wall as well, but didn't dare to glance at him. The immaculate woman continued as if unaware of the insult she had just given them.

"However, you people need to understand that it's also our prerogative, upper command, specifically General Connor himself, to inform you of every operation." The officer leaned back, still regarding them with a closed expression, "And, when we say that this area is off limits, then we mean it."

"Now, I could confine you to this base for the remainder of this operation, which has an indefinite timeline," She started gathering up her papers, ignoring the looks of protestation from the soldiers in front of her, "However we have a limited supply line, we keep human personnel low at this base," she once again regarded them with a condescending gaze, "And, frankly, you have demonstrated your inability to conform to the needs of this facility." Colonel Jenner pointedly looked over her shoulder at the defaced infiltrator.

"If I may, ma'am," Collin interjected, and Carrie was surprised how calm he sounded, "I'd like to point out that your lieutenant thought it would be a nice hazing to not inform us of the nature of your…" He nodded towards the immobile hulk against the wall, "unorthodox personnel. And, was quite amused by our response."

"See, Sergeant," She used the title almost as a slur, "This is exactly the reason why we do not require the ground troops in a facility such as this. You do not see that this is just a machine, to be programmed at our will. This…" The colonel pointed over her shoulder with the pen in her hand, "This is not Skynet's machine, this is OUR machine now."

"With all due respect, ma'am," Collin said with only the bare minimum of respect, "Have you ever been faced with having one of those things doing it's best to kill you?"

"I don't see the relevance," The colonel started, before being interrupted by Collin's continuing questioning.

"Because all of us 'on the ground troops' that you don't feel are appropriate for this base, we have been there." Collin took Carrie by the elbow and physically pulled her into the argument, "This soldier, she was beaten almost dead not long ago." His justified anger finally spilling out of him, as he spoke bitterly, "We will not ever see a machine as anything other than a threat. You cannot rationalize your decision by demeaning that fact."

"The war is going to change, Sergeant." Colonel Jenner said through tight lips, "Regardless, I will continue from where you cut me off, and I will not hold it against you. Ground troops don't understand the importance of our mission."

Both Carrie and Collin could not withhold the sighs that escaped. Carrie came out of rest and crossed her arms in front of her, putting her face in her hand and shaking her head.

"Damned idiot woman," Carrie expressed just loud enough for Collin to hear. He returned his hand to her arm to quiet her, and nodded to the colonel to continue.

"This facility will stay top secret." Colonel Jenner said coldly, "Even if we have to confine you here. You are not giving me confidence that it will remain so. If you can assure me that you will return to Captain Barber and inform him of no activity in the area, I will release you." She tapped her pencil on the table, "I will resupply you with enough to return to your base, and that is all."

"Yes, ma'am," Wall replied slowly, "We will do everything to vacate the area asap."

"Good," the woman replied, "We will provide you with quarters today until sundown. After which, any activity in the area will be considered treason, and your team will be dealt with accordingly."

Colonel Jenner stood, straightening her jacket. The entire team eyed her with scorn that she either chose to ignore or just totally did not comprehend.

"This unit will lead you to the sleeping quarters," she turned and gave it the appropriate orders, "We will deliver the supplies when it is time for you to depart."

The machine followed the woman to the door, stopping and waiting with an unnatural patience. Carrie watched the officer walk out the door, then pacing and rubbing her forehead she started to curse. Her expletives were met with similar expressions from Crow and Symms.

"Jesus, Wall!" Carrie exploded, "What the hell is wrong with this place?"

"Wait…" Collin shushed her, leaning in close and holding her by her upper arms gently, "Wait until we can talk freely."

Carrie was surprised by her desire to just bury her head in Wall's shoulder. Instead she just nodded, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. Wall rubbed her arms in encouragement, then turned, ordering everyone to pick up their kit and follow the metal. Carrie stood there for a second, her arms folded, her hands placed where Collin had gripped her, before she grabbed her pack and followed the back of the hulk in front of her. She kept thinking how appropriate it would look with a .50 caliber sabot round right in the middle of it.

* * *

><p>Staring down a long row of bunk beds, Carrie shook her head in amazement at the extent of the base, but also the emptiness. This one dormitory could sleep fifty people, and she couldn't help but recall dark tunnels filled with dirty occupants shoved into the small, dark spaces.<p>

She walked all the way to the end and placed her pack on the springs of the last bunk, next to the rolled up mattress. Wall seemed to be placing the rest of the team at the front of the room; however she did not wish to be near the door. Their machine guide, which she considered a guard, had taken post just outside, and frozen.

They found linens in a wall locker, and Wall tossed them around to everybody. As he handed a blanket to Carrie, he grinned.

"Sorry, none with teddy bears." He joked, and received a self-deprecating smile from Carrie in return.

Carrie turned her attention to Aral, who seemed to have recovered a bit from earlier, but still appeared a bit unsettled. She realized how alien everything around him must feel, and considering the emotions even she was experiencing, that he must be feeling it one hundred fold.

She chuckled inwardly as he gave the linens then the bed a confused look; even something as simple as making up a bed, even having a bed, was foreign to the ones who'd been raised after Judgment Day. She helped him tug the mattress into position, then they made the bed. She clapped him on the shoulder after admiring her handy work.

"I hope Wall doesn't want us to try to bounce a quarter off of it," She joked with Aral, then turned serious, "We're out of here in the morning, then back to Omaha. Don't get too worked up about what happened here. Just forget about it."

Aral just nodded in return and sat on the bed, staring at his hand. Carrie sighed and shook her head, rubbing her brow. She knew he wasn't going to make it if he ever got into a firefight; some just weren't cut out for it.

* * *

><p>Carrie sat on the bed she'd made in the back of the dormitory, her bare legs to her chest; she worried the cuticle on her thumb with her teeth, her eyes staring at nothing. She was vaguely aware of Collin's approach, and he placed his pack at the end of the bunk next to hers and started to make his own bed.<p>

Carrie turned to watch him neatly tuck in his blanket, and as she caught his eye she felt an unfamiliar twisting in her stomach. It was not an unpleasant feeling, but for some reason it filled her with both excitement and fear. Her heartbeat quickened, not unlike when she had the enemy in her sights.

"I feel like Alice after falling down the rabbit hole," she finally spoke. "Tully is the Mad Hatter, and that colonel, the Queen of Hearts. They're all crazy here. What are we going to tell Captain Barber?"

"Nothing," Collin replied from his bunk, he looked up from unlacing his boots, holding his hand up to forestall Carrie from continuing.

At his reply, Carrie swung her legs down to sit on the edge of the bunk, about to protest she quieted at the motion of his hand and the look he gave her. She watched quietly as he finished, and he stepped over to her, kneeling in front of her. As he leaned in close, she once again felt that feeling in her chest, and she bent forward to meet him.

"I'm sure we're under surveillance," Collin said quietly in her ear, "We'll talk about this when we are out of here."

Carrie just nodded against his cheek. Even though his words were straightforward, his warm breath against her ear made Carrie's face flush. She made no effort to back away, trying to find meaning in the conflicting emotions she was feeling. She wasn't sure if it was just the surreal events of the day, or his scent that filled her senses that made her a bit lightheaded. Without realizing, she found her hand upon the back of his neck, her thumb making lazy circles in the hair behind his ear.

Experiencing a dizziness, almost as if she were drunk, her thoughts spun in her head, but she was unable to reconcile her thoughts with actions. Her mind fought with itself about the fact, in every aspect, personal and professional, that she shouldn't be doing this; however her body and heart insisted that it felt right.

She felt Wall imperceptibly move closer, and his hand, which had rested next to her thigh, slid tentatively up, barely touching her flesh, to rest on her hip. Carrie gasped as another jolt of awareness short circuited her brain's objections. Pulling back, his stubbled beard grazing against her face just increased the tempo of her heart. Her green eyes locking onto his blue ended the war in her head.

"Oh, Jesus…" Carrie whispered, wondering if her face reflected the same bewilderment as Collin's.

Both of her hands now rested lightly framing his face, and Wall's arms firmly encircled her. He gently pulled her forward, and as Carrie felt her body press to him, she brought her mouth to meet his. Carrie felt all resistance leave her as her lips softly joined with his, and a small cry of yearning long denied was muffled against him.

Collin's embrace crushed her against his chest, and one hand's fingers entangled in her hair, cradling her head, keeping her lips locked upon his. Parting her lips, and delighting in the union of their tongues, she clung to him with her arm over his shoulder. She felt amazed as she breathed heavily, unwilling to break contact.

They finally separated, Collin's lips traveling along her jaw to then latching onto a sensitive spot just below her ear. She felt his chest heaving against hers, and her exhalations came out in a series of small gasps as she tried to silence her desire to cry out.

Allowing him to lower her to the bed, and feeling his weight upon her she did let out a quiet moan against his shoulder. As Collin's hand slowly slipped down to grip her thigh, grasping under her knee and pulling it up towards his waist, the springs on the bed gave a loud squeal.

Freezing, the moment broken, they lay there for a second, their exhalations slowing and their minds clearing. Wall pulled away and looked down at Carrie, and the wince of regret showing on her face.

"We can't…" She exclaimed with both chagrin and disappointment. She covered her face with both hands, rubbing hard upon her forehead.

"I know…" Collin replied with care, and a bit of an apology. He hovered over her for a moment, gently brushing her hair away from her face.

Sighing as he lifted himself off of her, Carrie looked up at him as he stood over her for only a second before he returned to his bunk. She rubbed her swollen lips with a bit of sorrow, already missing the touch of his on hers. For all these years she fought to not have feelings like this, she now craved them.

* * *

><p>Collin lay in his bunk for a long time, fighting to overcome the aching deep inside him. He knew, as her sergeant, that he never should have let his feelings escalate to this point. However, today, as he poised next to her, breathing in her scent, and feeling her tense against him, he couldn't control himself.<p>

She had tasted as he'd imagined ever since that first twinge of desire had washed over him the first day at Omaha. And, the way her body felt against his, yielding softly against his hands, was as he had envisaged every time he had longed to touch her. He had known each time his ideas turned to that, it would probably end exactly as it had tonight.

As he mulled over his transgressions, trying to clear his mind so that he may sleep, he turned to find his corporal watching him. The light was dim, but he saw clearly the same expression of wanting and self-denial on her face, which was still flushed with desire. He sighed quietly and turned his eyes to the ceiling, as if searching it for an answer.


End file.
